Sandstorm
by Misanagi
Summary: Years after the war, the world is still wondering about the identities of the mysterious Gundam pilots. Now they have an answer.
1. Chapter One

**Sandstorm**

**By Misanagi **

Rating: R

Pairings: None yet

Warnings: Angst, violence.

Summary: Years after the war, the world is still wondering about the identities of the mysterious Gundam pilots. Now they have an answer. 

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the characters used in this fic.

Archive: 

Feedback: Yes please! misanagi_zzz@hotmail.com 

Thanks to Anne, a wonderful beta reader. *hugs* I love you so much!

= = = = = = = = = = = = = 

Chapter 1

The room was silent. The only noise that could be heard were the rain drops hitting the window and the trees blowing in the wind. It was dark, the big crystal lamp that hung on the ceiling wasn't being used and the only illumination was the few lights coming from the street. 

The room was big and elegant. It was painted in beige and all the furniture was made of cedar wood. The carpet was light brown and it covered the room from wall to wall. Beneath the lamp rested a big wooden desk. It was covered with papers and folders that read things like 'transfer of ownership', 'Account closed' and 'I regret to inform that I can no longer perform the position of CEO…' In a corner, above some of the documents and close enough to hit the ground at any moment were two empty bottles of wine.  

A figure was sitting in a big leather chair with his back to the window. His eyes were closed but the uneven breathing was a sign that he was awake. He was wearing a white silk shirt with the first three buttons open and a deep blue tie hung loosely around his neck. An expensive Italian suit jacket lay on the floor near the foot of the chair, completely ignored. In his left hand, he held an empty cup while the right was wrapped around a remote control. 

His eyes opened slowly, revealing an aquamarine color and a glassy look. A sigh escaped his lips and the figure leaned back on the chair. "It's almost time," he said, not caring that there was no one around to hear his words. 

His fingers lazily pushed a button on the remote control and the wall in front of him parted, revealing the screen that was hidden behind it. 

The remote was put aside and the man reached into a drawer and took out another bottle of wine. This one was different than the others; it was older and it had been waiting on that drawer for a long time. The label read 'Casillero del Diablo', the finest Chilean wine, or so his father had told him years before. After the war, it had been the only remaining bottle that he could find and he had been saving it for a special occasion. It seemed that the time had come.

The man left the cup on the table and got a butterfly knife out of another drawer. He used the tip to loosen the cork and then brought the bottle to his lips and used his teeth to take it out. He spit the cork to the trashcan and took a swing of the bottle of wine. All his manners were put aside. At the moment, he didn't care about being the perfect gentleman.  

The screen, that had been showing some landscapes of Earth, glowed red and the words 'News flash' could be clearly seen. It was time.

Sharon Parker, a woman with red hair and brown eyes, appeared on the screen wearing a serious look. "Good evening, everyone. We interrupt this program to give you last minute news. Our news team has found proof that the former CEO of Winner Enterprises and recently retired colony representative, Quatre Raberba Winner, was a Gundam pilot during the wars.

"We don't know if there is a connection between his role in the wars and his sudden and unexpected retirement from the political arena as well as his decision to leave Winner Enterprises under the control of his sisters. This station has also found out that Mr. Winner declared himself bankrupt this morning in a small notary. He stated, and I'm quoting from the notary transcript, 'I have transferred all of my possessions to my sisters and some charities. There is absolutely nothing in my name now. The house I'm living in is also now the property of Sulamita Winner. She is kindly letting me stay there.'  We are still trying to find more information on this story but the news we just delivered was confirmed by certified sources as well as a-"

Quatre turned off the vid and took another swing of the bottle of wine, some of the red liquid escaping from the corner of his lips. He placed the bottle loudly on the desk and closed his eyes while his tongue licked the drops below his lower lip. 

His cell phone began to vibrate on top of the desk while the vid phone biped, signaling an incoming call. Quatre ignored them both. He turned the electronic devices off and leaned back on his chair, his eyes still closed.

The bottle of wine found its way to Quatre's mouth again. He smiled bitterly; there was nothing left for him to do but get drunk and celebrate the end of his life. 

*   *   *

Relena sighed. She could feel the beginnings of a strong headache coming her way. She resisted the urge to take one hand to her forehead and close her eyes. Instead she just kept a neutral face as she waited for Minister Anilievich to finish his argument. 

She despised that man.

Morris Anilievich was a very wealthy person. He was part on one of Earth's most influential families and his name had been associated with the former Romefeller foundation. He had been involved in politics for more than thirty years and had very strict and conservative convictions. 

Anilievich had also been one of Quatre Winner's most fervent opponents. He attacked Quatre's social programs, his ideas of investing funds in rebuilding some areas of the colonies as living environments to reduce the homeless numbers and his education programs. But most of all, Anilievich attacked Quatre's age. The older man couldn't stand that a person so young could be in charge of a company as big as Winner Enterprises, be a politician and successful in both fields. 

The minister never missed an opportunity to attack Quatre but no matter how many times he tried, all his attempts were futile. Quatre always seem to be one step ahead of him.  

Even after Quatre had resigned from his role as colony representative, Anilievich tried to attack him or the projects he had worked so hard on. Relena wasn't going to allow that. She might not understand why Quatre had resigned and kept some distance from her but that didn't mean that she was going to sit and watch her friend's name get trashed. As a consequence, Anilievich had shifted all of his resentment in her direction. Relena didn't mind. She was smart enough to handle someone like him, but the events of the night before had turned everything again.

After it was publicly announced that Quatre Raberba Winner had been a Gundam pilot, the political representatives had decided to hold a meeting to discuss the news and take an official position towards it. After all, the Gundams had played a vital role in the wars but the pilots had disappeared soon after it. Now, it was time resolve a problem they hadn't needed to face before.

Should the pilots be treated as war veterans, heroes or criminals? They had been terrorists but they had also helped to save Earth. It was a difficult decision and the politicians had been spared from making it for five years but now, the identity of a Gundam pilot had been revealed and the government needed to do something about it. 

It had already been decided that there should be a trial to determine the fate of the ex CEO of Winner Enterprises but the issue that they had been discussing for the last three hours was what to do with Quatre in the meantime. 

Anilievich was defending the motion to put the Gundam pilot into heavy confinement in "The Pillory", the biggest security prison in the world and the colonies. The facility was thirty stories underground and it was located in the middle of the Negev desert, with nothing around for miles. 

"I have to disagree with you, Minister Anilievich," said Relena, as soon as the older man had finished his arguments. "If we put Quatre Winner in prison we will be sentencing him before he has the right to stand trial. We take pride in being a fair society and we have tried to learn from the injustices committed in the past. If we condemn a man before he has the right to be heard, we will be taking a step backwards."

"Vice Foreign Minister Darlian, you have to remember that we are not dealing with a normal case here. Due to the capabilities of this Gundam pilot, we need to take certain security measures. He was a trained terrorist, what guarantee do we have that he won't try to escape again?"

"Should I remind you that Mr. Winner didn't escape?" asked Relena, interrupting Anilievich's speech. "Unless you want to call this very room a hiding place. He was in plain view for five years; he went nowhere."

"No, Miss Darlian, but he did fail to explain that part of his life to us. He hid in plain view but he was hiding, none the less."

"And can you honestly blame him?" Relena turned around and fixed her eyes on all the politicians present in the room. "You all know him. You worked beside him for five years and you are still here, trying to lock him up like he is a common criminal. Quatre Winner is a man of his word and in all the years I've known him I've never seen him run away from a challenge. You should know that, Minister Anilievich.  He beat you in quite a few."

The minister was breathing faster, his fists were clenching and his face was turning red. "I don't know what you are implying with that, little girl, but I refuse to be put in the same level as that… that—"

"You should watch your words, Minister. Remember that you are not entitled to pass judgment on Mr. Winner; a jury will do that, in due time," said Relena, calmly. 

"Then what do you propose we should do, Vice Foreign Minister? Let him go free?" asked Anilievich, breathing hard and trying to contain his rage. 

"Since this is a special case, as Minister Anilievich has already pointed out, I can't expect you to agree to let Mr. Winner go free. However, I find the solution of a holding compound quite extreme. I think our best option is to keep Mr. Winner under house arrest under the Preventers' surveillance. I know some of you, may think that this isn't secure enough for a Gundam pilot but I ask you to remember that this Gundam pilot used to be your colleague and that someone with his connections and expertise could have vanished months ago if that was what he was planning to do."

There was no more debate after that. The president of the senate called for a voting and half an hour latter, they had reached a solution. 

Relena was exhausted and her headache was getting worse. Still, she waited patiently until the votes had been counted and the decision announced. After she heard it, she nodded politely to some people and waited until the session was dismissed. She got up slowly from her chair and exchanged a few words with some other politicians before quickly excusing herself and leaving the room. 

The limo was already waiting outside and she climbed into it followed by the shadow who made sure she stayed safe at all times. The door was closed and the car began to move.  

He put his hands on Relena's shoulders and began massaging them. "Thank you," he whispered after a while. 

"Heero," she said as she closed her eyes and tried to relax. "He is my friend too. You don't need to thank me." 

Relena could tell she was falling asleep. The movement of the car and Heero's hands had managed to relax her. She took a deep breath and unconsciously rested her head on Heero's chest. It had been a long morning but it had all been worth it.  Quatre wasn't going to jail.

*   *   *

A loud thud was heard as a fist hit the wooden table. "What do you mean, no?" asked Wufei, his eyes trained on the woman behind the desk. 

"It's too risky," answered Lady Une in an even tone of voice. She understood why Wufei was angry; she was angry herself but she hadn't managed to be a Colonel by nineteen by not being able to handle her emotions. Five years working with Wufei had taught her that he was as temperamental as he was good at his job. She also knew that Wufei was very capable of keeping his temper under control but she was not taking any chances this time. "Quatre was smart enough to understand it, why can't you?"

"Because," said Wufei with a more controlled voice, "he is my friend and I won't let him go through this alone." 

Une sighed. She considered Wufei a friend and she had seen what Quatre's sudden decision to cut connections with the Chinese man had done to him. At first no one really had understood why Quatre, who had been a loyal friend through the years, had decided to stop taking their calls and had even changed his personal number so that none of his old friends could contact him directly.  Wufei had been deeply hurt by that, Une could tell, but he had never said one ill word against the blond ex pilot. Chang Wufei was never one to pass judgment without knowing all the facts. 

Now, they knew the hidden motives behind Quatre's strange behavior. Une was already beating herself for not being able to prevent the news bulletin that had told of Quatre's role during the war.  The blond strategist had obviously seen it coming. He had been clever enough to isolate himself from his fellow pilots so that no one would be able to connect them with him. He had resigned from his political post and handed Winner Enterprises to his sisters so that the cause he was fighting for and the family business wouldn't pay for his actions. He had transferred everything he owned into other people's hands so that the government wouldn't be able to confiscate it. Basically, he had gotten rid of everything that mattered to him to be sure that he was the only one who would suffer the consequences. 

"He won't be alone, Wufei. Quatre will always have people backing him up." 

"I know that," he replied, his voice completely calm now. "But I want to be one of those people too."

Une stared at Wufei; he didn't look that well. After the news bulletin, Wufei had arrived at the Preventers' Headquarters, demanding an explanation. He had wanted to know why nobody had told him about the fact that someone was trying to find information about the Gundam pilots and why they hadn't been able to prevent the information leak. He had spend the night at the office, working alongside with Une and Sally, trying to find anything useful about the leak and if they had any more information. Their efforts had been futile. 

"You have to sit this one out, Wufei," said Une and handed him a paper from her desk. "I just sent a team of people to surround Quatre's house. They are already there and the perimeter is secure. The street is filled with reporters. It is a good thing that the security in that house was installed by Gundam pilots or they would have already found a way in.  Those reporters can be very persistent."

"And I guess you are going to tell me to stay out of camera view," said Wufei, his eyes still scanning the names on the list. 

"We have moved the reporters a few blocks back but it would be safer if you stay away." Une sighed. "I know the rest of the pilots are probably on the way. Relena called and said that she would stop by later today and, of course, Heero is coming with her. I guess Trowa and Duo are going to take a little longer since they are on the colonies. I have to ask you that once you are all here, you refrain from doing something foolish."  

Wufei moved his eyes off the paper for a moment. "What are you trying to imply, Lady?  

Une kept her eyes trained on the man in front of her. "Don't forget that I was also a soldier and I know how you think. I already have had to put one Gundam pilot under house arrest and I don't want to be forced to do the same with the rest of you."

Wufei hadn't moved one bit. He was staring at Une with defiance, his arms crossed on top of his chest. "We'll do what we have to, Lady. Quatre is our friend, our comrade, and we are not going to let him down." The words were delivered with a steady voice, the controlled tone of a soldier who had his mind set on a goal and is not going to give up. 

Wufei's eyes lowered back to the paper in his hands, his expression was neutral. "Who is Andrew Livinson?" he finally asked, raising his eyes again and looking at Une from behind the paper.

"He is new, just transferred from the New York base." Une could see in Wufei's face that he didn't approve. It would be only normal that he wouldn't trust just anyone with Quatre's security but Une was in need of people and Livinson came highly recommended so she had used him. "I need him at least tonight, Wufei. He is already there and we don't have enough people now. I'll find someone to replace him tomorrow."

"I don't like people I don't know guarding Quatre."

"Either we use Livinson or we are left with one person short. I'm going to go there personally this afternoon. The men have orders to surround the perimeter but no one is allowed to even try to go into the house. I'll do that as soon as I get there. I want to speak to Quatre myself."

Wufei sighed. "Since I can't be there, I guess he needs the support of someone he knows and trust. And besides," said Wufei, a smug look finding its way on to his face. "Unless I give you specific directions, there is no way you can get pass the security at his place."  

"Is that a challenge, Preventer Chang?" asked Une, raising an eyebrow. 

"No, Lady. It's a fact." 

*   *   *


	2. Chapter Two

**Sandstorm**

**By Misanagi**

****

Rating: R  
Pairings: None yet  
Warnings: Angst, violence.  
Summary: Years after the war, the world is still wondering about the identities of the mysterious Gundam pilots. Now they have an answer.   
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the characters used in this fic.  
Archive:   
Feedback: Yes please! misanagi_zzz@hotmail.com    
  
Thanks to Anne and Haraamis, for being wonderful beta readers. *hugs* Thanks a lot!

========================================****

Chapter 2

The door of the car banged loudly as Une got out. She was frustrated already. Traffic near the Winner mansion was hell, and the driver wasn't helping. Une was in no mood to deal with the nervous rookie who had the misfortune of being assigned to drive her on a day like this. Walking was an equally useful way of transportation and in that precise moment, even faster. 

She didn't have to walk far before the herd of reporters became visible. Une sighed; she hated reporters with all her heart. In her experience they were deceiving, annoying, obnoxious, and evil beasts who fed on the suffering of mankind. That, combined with her general mood that afternoon, meant that she had absolutely no patience to deal with them. 

She walked right through the cameras, microphones, and make-up-covered girls, and was sure that she had managed to knock a couple of them to the ground on her way. She didn't even take the time to stop in front of the Preventer barricade; she just jumped right over it and kept walking, straight for her prey. "Woods, what did I say about these reporters?"

Une could see the officer literally jump when he heard her voice. He turned quickly to face her. Une smiled; the man was scared. "Ma'am, you said to move the reporters away from the house, Ma'am."

"And do you think that this is away?" asked Une gesturing to the reporters who still had a clear view of the house. Woods remained silent. "No, Woods, this is not away! I want all of them moved back. If you need to close the street, then do it."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Une kept glaring at the man until he moved. Woods was actually a good Preventer, but Une was feeling frustrated and wanted things to be dealt with expeditiously. 

The outside perimeter looked good enough, but it wasn't that important. It was only made to keep the reporters and nosy people out. Une was more worried about the inside perimeter's security, which was currently monitoring the activities around Quatre's home, not a couple of blocks away. 

She decided to let Woods handle the reporter situation and walked to the gate of the house where her most trusted man on the case, who was also the team leader, was waiting for her. 

"Ma'am," he saluted as soon as she got close enough. "We've been waiting for you."

"Now is not the time, Martinez. I'm frustrated enough as it is. I want a status report now."

"We've moved the reporters and have done a complete search of the perimeter. Everything outside that tall black fence is clean. I have men covering each side and entrance, but they are not allowed to go inside the house, since you ordered us to wait for you, Ma'am."

Une took a moment to evaluate the situation. Martinez had been pretty efficient, and she expected no less of him. She wouldn't have put him in charge of Quatre's security if she didn't fully trust him and his capabilities as a Preventer.  "Very well, Martinez. I'll be going in alone. You are to stay out here and make sure no one attempts to follow me. You'll only come in after I give you the order, understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," answered Martinez. He hesitated a moment and then added, "are you sure you don't want anyone else to go in with you?"

"Are you doubting my capabilities, Martinez?" asked Une in an irritated voice. She knew that she had to present herself that way to her subordinates, but she actually appreciated the fact that Martinez had tried to stop her. After all, the man didn't know the whole situation the way she did. He probably thought she would be facing a dangerous and potentially angry Gundam pilot alone, and he had risked being punished for trying to protect her. Yes, she definitely liked Martinez. 

"No, Ma'am. I'm sorry," he answered. "I'll be ready out here, just in case anything happens, Ma'am."

Une nodded to him and walked to the gate. She opened the panel and pressed the fourteen-digit code that Wufei had given her. According to him, the outside panel didn't only read the code but also analyzed the finger prints of the person entering it. Quatre had created a list of all the people who could possibly enter a code. The gate wouldn't open unless the code matched the person who used it, and everyone had a different code. Une had pointed out to Wufei that if that was the case, she wouldn't be able to get in. She hadn't been very surprised when Wufei had smirked. He had informed her, in a calm and amused voice, that knowing Quatre, he would have probably thought ahead, and had already known that the only code she could get fast enough was Wufei's. 

She smirked when the gate opened. Wufei had been right.

As soon as she was through the gate, it closed behind her. Une didn't look back and instead made her way towards the house, following the paved road. She started counting the trees, and when she arrived in front of number seven, she walked to it. After circling it once, she found the hidden panel. She entered her complete name followed by a five-digit code before she returned to the road again and continued her way to the house. 

Une had already noticed a lot of cameras and lasers, and she was sure that there were even more. Wufei had been right. If she didn't follow his directions to the dot, she wouldn't be able to get inside. She didn't have any doubt that Quatre was already aware of her presence, and that maybe that was the only thing keeping her from injury. A Gundam pilot's security wasn't something to mess with. 

The front door only needed another six digit code and a voice print before it opened and Une let herself in. Again, the door closed behind her on it's own. 

The house was sad, or at least, that was the impression she got when she first looked around it. The tall windows were covered by heavy curtains, and the dim light that illuminated the grand living room only made it seem hunted. The furniture seemed abandoned. Even though it wasn't dirty, Une could see the thin layer of dust covering the sofas, tables, porcelain sculptures and crystal lamps. 

She spotted the long set of stairs leading to a corridor even darker than the shady living room. Slowly, she approached it, and with every step she took, the feeling of sorrow deepened. It seemed as if the house was talking, expressing silent echoes of emotions.

As Wufei had told her, she found Quatre in the study behind the third door to the left. However, the picture in front of her wasn't what she had expected to see. Unlike the rest of the house, the study was illuminated by the orange sun that came through the window. The contrast should have made the room different, more joyful than the others, but that was not the case.    

The first thing she noticed was the blond hair falling freely over Quatre's face. His eyes were closed, and his head was pillowed on his arms. He was sitting at his desk, surrounded by piles of documents and four empty bottles of wine. "I never thought I would see the day when Quatre Winner decided to drown his problems in alcohol." Une's voice was severe, and it betrayed nothing about the way she felt inside or the momentary urge she had to take Quatre in her arms and comfort him. 

He raised his head slowly, the bangs dangling          in front of his face. His eyes opened to reveal a glazy look and a tired expression. A two day beard shadowed his face and was a proof of his solitude. The Quatre Winner Une knew would never allow himself to be seen in such a state. 

"I'm not drowning my problems, Lady. I did everything in my power to solve them," he answered in a raspy voice. "Now, I'm just celebrating my failure."   

Une wanted to talk but the words wouldn't leave her lips. Behind the alcohol and the blurry look in his eyes, Une could still see the strategist. Every move had been thought through and every step executed. The plan had finally reached its conclusion, and now it was time for the tactician to face the consequences. 

"Are you here to arrest me, Lady?" Quatre looked at her. His eyes weren't showing fear or anger but the acceptance of someone who is prepared to face his fate. 

"No. Relena convinced the senate to keep you under house arrest. The Preventers have been assigned to guard you.". 

"Don't they think I would try to escape?" he asked, showing some surprise. 

"Relena convinced them that if you wanted to go, you would have disappeared months ago."

Une waited for a reply but it didn't come. Quatre stayed silent, looking at a distant point on the beige wall. "So, why didn't you?" she finally asked. 

Quatre looked at her again. "I can't. This is my problem, and I need to face it."

There was something wrong with the tone of Quatre's voice. It wasn't the alcohol or the sadness but something deeper, and Une didn't like it at all. "Don't play the victim, Winner. It doesn't suit you."

"Is that what you think I'm doing?" he said, giving her a sad smile. "Lady, I can't hide forever. What I did during the war is constantly in my mind, but if I had the choice, I would do it again. However, I've always known, even before I started fighting, that there would come a time when I would have to face my actions. It seems that the time is now."

Une had had enough. She pressed the palms of her hands on top of the desk and moved closer, only stopping centimeters away from Quatre's face. "Winner, don't forget that you are not the only one in this room with a heavy conscience. However, that doesn't mean that a group of people who lived the war as spectators and now claim to be the voice of integrity, has the right to judge /you/ or any of us." 

Quatre closed his eyes and lowered his head. "We have peace now, Lady. A peace we all fought to achieve. It's not perfect; the idea of having a perfect world is very naïve, but at least it's something." Quatre sighed and looked at Une from behind his bangs. "Maybe they don't have the right to judge me, but we live in a very fragile society, and the rules they are upholding were designed to protect it. I will submit to those rules. It's necessary. I did not battle so hard to see everything crumble at my feet, just because I was too afraid to keep fighting for it. Even if this time, the strategy is to give up."  

Lady Une turned around and walked silently to the door. She shook her head and sighed. "Quatre, you are a very odd person." 

*   *   *

Catherine Bloom groaned as she pressed herself against the wall, and allowed Trowa to run from one side of the small trailer to the other. She could tell that he was worried, but Trowa was also hiding a lot more emotions than that. All those years in the company of her new found brother had taught her that he wasn't a very emotional person. Trowa had that special quality. He could think clearly in any situation and remain calm when others would have lost all control. But now, it appeared that he had lost some of that control too. 

When they had seen the news footage, Trowa had appeared to take it well, or at least as well as could be expected. Catherine had found out soon afterwards that that was not the case. Her brother had been quiet for a very long time, just sitting in front of the vid, looking at the blank screen, deep in thought. Catherine had chosen to stay silent. The news had been a shock for her too, but she knew that Trowa cared a lot about Quatre, and she couldn't begin to wonder what was going through his head. 

Then, suddenly, an hour ago, Trowa had woken from his stupor and had begun pacing from one part of the trailer to the other, gathering his things. He had announced to Catherine that he was going to Earth, to see Quatre. 

She didn't like it. It was not that she couldn't understand what her brother was going through. She could. Catherine wasn't blind and she could was able to recognize affection when she saw it. It was just that she was equally worried about Trowa. Her brother had also been a Gundam pilot during the wars. If information about Quatre had managed to reach the public, maybe Trowa was in danger too and his trip to Earth was only going to attract attention. 

"You know Quatre wouldn't want you to go. You are just putting yourself in danger."  Catherine bit her lip. She didn't want to voice her concerns; she knew that Trowa already had a lot to worry about, but her heart was doing all the talking, and her brain wasn't fast enough to prevent it. 

Trowa stopped mid way to his room, a pair of socks falling from his hands at the abrupt motion. He ignored it and instead turned to look at Catherine. "I know very well what Quatre wants. It has become pretty clear to me now." 

Catherine flinched at the coldness of his voice.  Trowa was angry, and Catherine couldn't say that she blamed him. She knew that even though Quatre and Trowa didn't talk constantly and the visits had become further apart, they still considered each other as friends.  Trowa had been hurt when the little contact he had with Quatre had stopped completely.  He had blamed himself for it, thinking that choosing to live so far away from the people he had come to love as friends had been the cause. Trowa had tried to call Quatre a couple of times but had never managed to talk to him. His calls were always answered by a secretary who politely informed him that Mr. Winner was unavailable. 

Trowa hadn't spoken much about it but Catherine could tell he was upset. For months she had wanted to locate Quatre Winner and hit him over the head for ignoring his friends. She had been angry with him because he was hurting Trowa, but after the newscast, all that resentment had transformed into respect. 

Quatre had hurt Trowa, but she could understand why he had done it. He was trying to protect Trowa, just as she was trying to look after him now. But at this moment, looking at Trowa's worried eyes, she couldn't help but wonder if he still needed to be sheltered.  

"Don't be mad at him, Trowa. He was acting with your best interests at heart."

Trowa didn't reply. He just picked up his socks from the floor and walked silently to his room. Catherine sighed and then followed him. 

Trowa was standing in front of the single bed. A small backpack was resting on top of the bed, and it was surrounded by more things than could ever fit in there. 

"I can't remember when I acquired so many things," he said as he folded a blue shirt that Quatre had once given him as a gift. There was no need for a special occasion, or so Quatre had said when he'd handed it to Trowa. He had just done it because he could. A gift from the heart. "I remember a time when all I owned could fit in this bag."

Catherine walked over to her brother and put a hand on his shoulder. She brushed the back of her hand across his face before giving him a small kiss on the cheek. "If you are going to spend the next twenty hours in a shuttle, I suggest you go rest. You've been awake the whole night and that's not healthy. Go on. You can use my room. I'll get this done for you."

Trowa opened his mouth to protest, but Catherine glared at him. After a moment of hesitation, he just nodded and left the room. "Thanks, Cathy," he said on his way out.

Catherine folded the blue shirt and placed it in the bag. Maybe Trowa wouldn't need it, but she was sure he would like having it with him. She smiled a little. Maybe it was time to trust Trowa to protect himself and let him go. 

It was time for her brother to find his way.

*   *   *

Wufei put his feet on top of his desk and closed his eyes. There was a headache bothering him, and no matter what he tried to do, the annoying thing wouldn't go away. Normally, he would try meditation to get his muscles to relax and clear his mind, but he didn't have time for that now. 

Relena and Heero were scheduled to arrive at any moment.  They had tried to arrange a meeting for the day before, but after all the press and politicians Relena had to deal with, they had been too tired to make the trip to Preventer headquarters last night. Instead, they had scheduled a meeting for this afternoon. 

The clock on the wall beeped two times, signaling that it was six o' clock, time to go home. Wufei couldn't help but snicker.  He hadn't been home since he had seen that news bulletin and had rushed to Preventers; that had been two nights ago. Une had insisted that he needed to go home and rest, but Wufei had refused. He liked to be ready and somehow, he felt that if he left the Preventers building, it would be like he was abandoning his friend. He knew that he couldn't be with Quatre, so Preventers was the closest he could get. 

He had been sleeping on the couch and had used the showers at the gym. The true sacrifice, however, was eating the cafeteria food; it was nothing more than trash for the mouth as well as for the body. Still, Wufei was too busy searching through the Preventers files and asking for status reports at the Winner mansion to care much about it. 

"You know, that headache would go away a lot faster if you would stop being your stubborn self and go home to have a decent rest."

Wufei opened his eyes, but he already knew who the person at the door was. "Sally, I thought you had already given up. I've told you before; I'm not ready to go home."

Sally glared at Wufei and entered the office without waiting for an invitation. She sat down on the leather couch in the corner, adopting a relaxed pose. "Chang, you are mistaken if you think I give up easily. I'm a doctor, I'm used to dealing with obnoxious patients, and if you think that the fact that you are the most obstinate man on the face of the planet and the colonies is going to scare me, you have another thing coming."  

"Facts are stubborn things," replied Wufei, taking his feet off the table. "Tobias Smollett."

Sally smirked. She nodded once, letting Wufei know that his challenge had been accepted. "In any contest between power and patience, bet on patience. Prescott."

"Power is the ability to get things done," said Wufei in a bored tone, meant to hide the fact that he was indeed amusing himself. "Rosabeth Moss Kanter."

After crossing her legs, Sally gave Wufei a seductive smile. "Beauty is power; a smile is its sword. Charles Reade."

Wufei raised an eyebrow before returning the smile. "Do not call for black power or green power. Call for brain power.Barbara Jordan."

Sally brushed some locks from her face, the smile no longer seductive but amused. "We should take care not to make intellect our god;" She took a moment to look at Wufei from head to toe before continuing. "It has, of course, powerful muscles, but no personality... Einstein." 

Wufei couldn't stop himself from chuckling. "Touché," he said, bowing his head slightly. "However, my place is still in this office."

Sally sighed. "Figures! Would you at least let me give you something for the pain?"

"You know I don't like meds, Sally."

"And you know you are no help if you are sick, Chang. Don't be stupid." Sally closed her fists, a sure sign that she was getting annoyed with him, and if there was something Wufei didn't want to face right now, it was an annoyed Sally.

"Fine," he said simply, and apparently that was all Sally needed to hear. She took a box filled with pills from her pocket and tossed it on Wufei's desk. "Take two now but keep them with you in case the headache returns. Don't take more than one every four hours after the initial two." 

Wufei took the box and fixed Sally with a look. He didn't need to say it; she knew him well enough to know that he wasn't one to overdose. After taking two of the white pills on his hand, he grabbed his unfinished cup of tea from the table and swallowed the pills. 

"I'm glad to see he finally listened to someone," commented Une as she entered the office. "Good job, Sally."

Sally smiled and nodded. 

"What's the status?" asked Wufei, ignoring all the other comments. He was more interested in what was happening outside Quatre's house than the fact that he had just been tricked. 

Une sat in one of the chairs in front of Wufei's desk and took a sip of the coffee she had in her hand. "The reporters are still crowding the streets, but since we arrested that cameraman who tried to sneak past the barricade, confiscated his equipment, and banned his team from the site, they had been calmer. Martinez is handling the security in the second perimeter; he has already established the rounds for the days and the nights and is aware of everything that's happening. He is also coordinating the vigilance inside Quatre's home, according to my specifications."

"How is Quatre coping with that?" asked Wufei, not bothering to hide the concern in his voice. 

Une sighed. "He has barricaded himself in his studio, disabled all his security equipment, and let Preventers take over the house." Une took another sip of coffee before giving Wufei a serious look. "Quatre has been drinking," She informed them in an even tone.

Wufei remained silent. He had known Quatre for many years, and he could count on one hand the times he had seen the blond drunk, and all of them had been celebrations of special occasions. Quatre had never been one to turn to alcohol. The blond was not only a soldier, but a businessman and a politician as well; he always faced his problems and sometimes he did it so well that he forgot to ask for help. Quatre was used to handling things and being in control of any situation. Quatre Winner did not look for the answers at the bottom of a bottle. 

Wufei could feel himself getting angrier by the minute. The fact that Quatre was drinking was a testimony of how bad things really were. Quatre wasn't weak but it sounded as though he was giving up, and that was something Wufei couldn't tolerate; none of his friends were allowed to give up. "I need to go and smack some sense into him," Wufei announced and then got up from his chair and started walking to the door. 

"Stop right there," said Une. "We've had this discussion before, Wufei. It's not wise for you to go there. It's too dangerous."

"I know that, but I'm getting irritated and what you are telling me about Winner isn't helping one bit."

"Quatre must be in deep trouble if you are calling him Winner."  Wufei turned to the door, and sure enough, Heero Yuy was standing there with Relena by his side. 

Wufei nodded at Relena and then walked to the door stopping beside Heero. "I need a cup of tea," he said and kept walking, sure that Heero was only a few steps behind him.

The corridor was silent. After a few months working in Preventers and lots of complaints to Une, Wufei had managed to get an office on the third floor where the library was located, which meant that it was a quiet place. The only disadvantage was that the cafeteria was situated on the other side of the building on the sixth floor, but Wufei didn't mind. He liked his peace and solitude. 

Wufei headed for the stairs instead of the elevator, and Heero followed without a question. They climbed two floors in silence, before Wufei turned and sat on the steps. "He /is/ drinking," he said, right after Heero had found a place to stand against a wall.

"Quatre doesn't drink," Heero stated.

"Apparently, he picked this time to start," commented Wufei. "I'm worried."

"We all are."

"We need to do something."

Heero nodded. "Duo called. He got on a shuttle at six this morning." 

"Trowa called from the shuttle port on L3. They both must be arriving at midnight."

"We can meet them here and formulate a plan. We are going on a rescue mission, whether Quatre wants it or not."

Wufei nodded, and they walked silently to the cafeteria. Wufei checked his watch. Just another five hours and then, no matter what, they were going to get Quatre.  

*   *   *

Duo sighed as he moved again in his seat. "I hate traveling by public shuttle," he mumbled to himself. 

"Young man," said the old lady beside him in a lecturing tone, "you should know that this is the best way to travel. When I was your age, making a trip to Earth was a lot more complicated. It took twice as long, and the traveling conditions weren't as good. Be grateful that we now have comfortable seats, because back in my days, shuttles like these were a luxury few could afford, and for the average girl like me, it was simply impossible. We had to travel in second class, young man. Do you know what that was like…?"

Duo suppressed another sigh as he nodded at the woman. He didn't doubt that the old lady had good insight to what life had been like in earlier times, but he wasn't in the mood to listen to her. He had been traveling for the last eighteen hours; he was tired, cranky and very worried about Quatre. 

He hoped that Hilde would forgive him for putting a hole in her wall but at the moment he had seen the newscast, he hadn't been able to control himself. It hadn't just been the shock of finding out that way that Quatre's role in the war had been leaked to the press, but also the realization as to why Quatre had distanced himself from the rest of the ex-pilots. Duo was still angry. He could understand Quatre's position, and why he had done it, but that didn't mean that Duo wasn't going to kick Quatre's blond ass all the way to the moon for pulling a stun like that. 

Hilde had helped Duo pack as soon as he had promised to fix her wall after all the mess was over. Of course, he knew that he had also made the implicit promise of coming back, so he had better take care of himself. Duo didn't know what was going to happen; all he knew was that a friend was in trouble and he was going to help. Still, Duo Maxwell wasn't one to take off unprepared, and he was carrying enough implements to make sure that he would be ready for anything. 

"... don't you?"

"Huh? I mean, sorry, what did you say?" asked Duo, knowing that a simple nod of his head wasn't going to cut it this time. 

"I was asking if you agreed with me."

Duo blinked. "On the subject of..."

"Youth these days!" exclaimed the woman. "Their problem is that they never listen. Like that Winner boy. If he had listened to his father, like youngsters are supposed to, he wouldn't be in so much trouble right now. What did he think he was doing fighting a war? Do you know how old they said he was when he piloted that Gundam?"

"Fifteen," answered Duo, as a reflex.

"Yes, fifteen. Or at least that was what that pretty woman on the news said. Can you imagine that? A fifteen-year-old fighting a war? Killing people at such a young age? Terrible."

"Yes, terrible" repeated Duo. His mind was suddenly filled with events of the past, memories of battles and killings, loss, pain and sorrow. "Much too young."

"Yes, that's what I've been saying," agreed the woman. "My granddaughter was his age, Winner's age I mean, at the time of the war. Her parents kept her home and didn't let her out of their sight. She was happily oblivious of what was going on." The woman stopped for a moment to look at Duo. "She is about your age. How old were you then? In the war, I mean."

"Fifteen, ma'am."

She looked at him again, as if she was evaluating him. "You look like you turned out okay, young man. I bet your parents also took good care of you during the war."

"Actually, I'm an orphan."

"An orphan?" asked the woman, as if she didn't believe it. "Who took care of you then? A child needs someone to take care of him. It isn't right for a child to take care of himself."

Duo really didn't like this conversation. He wasn't going to lie to the old lady, but he definitely wasn't going to tell her his life story. He was sure that she would disapprove. 

"It is not polite to keep a lady waiting for an answer." 

Duo sighed. "I was-"

"We are glad to inform you that we are about to land on Earth," interrupted a female voice coming from the speakers. "Please make sure that your seatbelts are fastened and remember that for your own safety, it is forbidden to move from your seats."

"Is this your first trip to Earth, young man?" asked the lady as she looked out the window.

"No, it's not."

"So, you have been there before? Isn't it a beautiful place? Nothing like the colonies; things are different on Earth..."

Duo relaxed in his seat and resumed his nodding. He liked this conversation a lot better. 

Ten minutes and a lecture about the greatness of the sea later, Duo was exiting the shuttle and saying goodbye to the old lady. 

Due to the late hour, the shuttle port was almost empty but Duo would have recognized the tall figure everywhere, even in a crowd. 

"So, it's official," he said as he caught up with the person in question. "This little incident has resulted in a reunion."

"I would have preferred that we had met under different circumstances," answered Trowa. "But it's still good to see you, Duo."

"My thoughts exactly," agreed Duo. "So, let's go get Quatre, spank him for being a bad boy, and celebrate."

Trowa smirked. "I've missed you."

"Yeah, I've missed you t--" Duo grinned apologetically at Trowa as he took the cell phone from his jacket. "Maxwell here... What? Wufei, this better be a joke... understood... He is with me...  We are on our way." 

Duo closed his phone and put it in his jacket before looking at Trowa with a serious expression. "That was Wufei. Quatre's been kidnapped." 

*   *   *

TBC


	3. Chapter Three

**AN:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed the previous chapters. I'm sorry if I didn't thank you personally, but be sure that your reviews were read and appreciated.

* * *

****

**Sandstorm**

**By Misanagi**

****

Rating: R  
Pairings: None yet  
Warnings: Angst, violence.  
Summary: Years after the war, the world is still wondering about the identities of the mysterious Gundam pilots. Now they have an answer.   
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the characters used in this fic.  
Archive: Gundanium Line   
  
Thanks to Anne and Haraamis, for being wonderful beta readers. hugs Thanks a lot!

* * *

Chapter Three

There were many things in life that young Preventer Mark Johansen wanted to avoid, but nothing scared him more than what he had to face now. Every Preventer knew that there were people in the organization who demanded not only a great deal of respect, but who were also feared.

The first one was Lady Une. As the director of Preventers, she was known to be a great leader and a strong woman. Nothing in the organization happened without her knowledge. Whoever stepped out of line had to deal with her, and everyone knew that that wasn't a good thing.

It was a known fact that she had been a colonel during the war. She had even worked beside Treize Khushrenada. Some of the older Preventers had even been soldiers under her command. The stories that they told about her made every new recruit think twice about becoming a Preventer. Working for her was hard; she was very demanding, but the recruits also knew that they were working with the best, and that they would be well protected. Lady Une took care of her people.

The second person was also a woman, Sally Po. She was the doctor in charge of the medical facilities. Dr. Po was known as a good and caring doctor, but if the people in her care were unfortunate enough to receive a wound out of carelessness, or aggravated their condition by not taking proper care of themselves, then they were in trouble. Very deep trouble.

Mark shuddered at the thought. He had seen men who were twice Dr. Po's size shiver and squirm just from one of her looks. There were rumors that she had commanded a rebel group back in the war. Some of the most farfetched stories said that she had even met a Gundam pilot. However, those were only stories that cadets told each other, urban legends about their superiors. Which organization didn't have them?

The last person who had made a reputation by scaring new recruits was Preventer Chang Wufei. When he was angry, Chang had the ability to look at people in a certain way that made them dread the horrible fate that surely awaited them.

Chang had been working for the organization almost from the beginning. Despite his young age, he was well respected and everyone knew better than to disobey his orders. Mark remembered his early days on the job; another Preventer had made a comment about Chang. It was something about Chang's inferior capabilities as a soldier as he apparently had no experience prior to Preventers. Chang had heard that remark and offered the Preventer a chance to prove in a fighting match that he was right. It took Chang less than ten seconds to win the match and leave the rude Preventer with a broken arm. Mark had never heard anyone comment about Chang's abilities after that.

That was why Mark was less than happy about the fact that he was locked in a room with Lady Une, Sally Po and Chang Wufei. In addition, Vice Foreign Minister Darlian was sitting discreetly in a corner, and an unknown man was standing beside her. Mark decided that the man looked dangerous and he thought that it was better to stay on the man's good side.

"Can you tell us, Johansen," said Lady Une, in a severe voice, "How Quatre Winner was kidnapped?"

Mark could feel his hands trembling. He did his best to control himself, but his voice sounded shaky anyway. "I don't know exactly how it all started. I was patrolling the first floor, as Captain Martinez had instructed, when I saw someone lying on the ground. It was Gromberg." He took a pause. "I took his pulse but there was nothing I could do. He was dead."

They were all regarding him with blank looks. All except the minister; she seemed somewhat supportive. After taking a deep breath, Mark continued. "They were using silencers, that's why we didn't hear the shots and no one was alerted. I called for backup, but there was no answer. Then... then I decided to go to the study."

"Was that the position you had been assigned, Johansen?" asked Lady Une.

"No," he admitted, lowering his head.

"Then why did you go there?" Lady Une's voice didn't sound angry; actually, it was a neutral tone that reflected nothing.

"I knew Mr. Winner was there." Mark looked at his hands. "I know I shouldn't have gone there but..." He fell silent again, trying to find the right words. When no one urged him to continue, he raised his head, looking at a distant point on the wall. "I know I wasn't there long, but yesterday morning Captain Martinez sent me to the study to check on Mr. Winner. The Captain was worried about Mr. Winner's health, since he had hardly eaten anything. I talked to Mr. Winner, and he was really nice to me. Even though he's stuck in deep shi-... trouble, he still took the time to listen to me. I was in the study for about an hour, and he never said a word that didn't concern me and my problems. He never complained, not once." Mark moved his eyes from the wall and looked at the minister. "He is a good man."

It was common knowledge that Relena Darlian and Quatre Winner were good friends. They had started a lot of projects, had been allies in the political arena, and were seen often together in public. Romance magazines printed all sort of stories depicting them as a couple, but they had never said anything official. However, Mark knew that the news of Mr. Winner's kidnapping had to be hard for the minister.

"I wanted to warn him and see if he was alright," Mark continued. "I knew I wasn't following orders and that I shouldn't have gone there, but I couldn't leave Mr. Winner alone and vulnerable upstairs." Mark looked at Lady Une, expecting some kind of reprimand, but it didn't come. She just kept regarding him with the same neutral look. "I could tell that he had been sleeping. He had probably passed out, judging by the empty bottle of brandy by his side. The moment I came through the door, he looked at me. I could see his eyes trying to focus and his muscles becoming alert, as though his body was fighting the intoxication.

- Status? - he asked simply. His voice was so steady that I didn't think it could come from him. He doesn't look like it, but I knew at that moment that it was true, that he must have been a Gundam pilot."

"You should never underestimate someone based on appearance, Johansen," said Chang.

"Continue your report," ordered Lady Une, before Mark could answer.

He nodded. "I told Mr. Winner what I had seen. He got up so fast that you wouldn't have known that he was the man who was passed out on the desk a few moments before. He got some guns from his desk. I didn't have a good look at them. It was dark, and the power wasn't working, but I'm pretty sure that they were Desert Eagles. He would have looked amusing if the situation had been different. The expensive pants, the half tucked shirt and a gun in each hand. It's not what we are used to see on TV..." Mark coughed. He knew that he was getting off topic, and that was not a good thing to do when one was giving a report. "Mr. Winner told me to stay behind him, and then he walked out the door. What happened next... I mean, if I hadn't seen it myself I wouldn't have believed it. The place was so dark that I was stumbling with every step, but he didn't seem to have any trouble." Mark paused again, feeling his mouth getting dry. "I don't know how he saw them," he finally said. "He fired a couple of shots, the first ones that were heard. I noticed the men who were walking to the study the moment they collapsed on the floor. However, I think Mr. Winner missed because he only wounded them"

"Quatre never misses." The unknown man regarded Mark. There was something in those blue eyes that made Mark shiver. "And he doesn't aim to kill. Not any more."

"Are those the men that we have in custody?" asked Lady Une, completely ignoring the other man's comment.

"Yes," answered Mark. "Jennings and I picked them up after everything was over."

"Very well. Continue, Johansen."

"Yes, Ma'am. I guess Mr. Winner's shots alerted everyone, because we soon heard rushed footsteps coming towards us. He forced me to take cover, and then he dived behind a wall." Mark cleared his throat. "That's when we heard a voice coming from the stairs. The man asked Mr. Winner to come out. He said that there didn't have to be more bloodshed, but that there will be unless Mr. Winner surrendered to him. They had the place surrounded, and Mr. Winner would have only caused the death of more fine Preventers by refusing to cooperate." Mark closed his eyes for a moment, trying to focus on what he was saying. He was there to tell the facts, not to relive what had happened. "Mr. Winner glanced at the stairs. It took him three seconds to tell me how many men were there plus their locations." Mark stopped and looked at the other people in the room, waiting for some sign of awe.

"So, how many were there?" asked Chang. He sounded annoyed.

"How many what?"

"Would you concentrate, Johansen?" said the Chinese man. "How many men?"

"I don't..." Mark sighed and brought two fingers to his forehead. "Eight. He said there were eight."

"Go on," urged Lady Une. "What happened next?"

"The man started speaking again. He had Jennings with him and was threatening to kill her if Mr. Winner didn't surrender. He said some awful things; he threatened to... to violate Jennings right there if Mr. Winner didn't do as he was told." Mark bit his lip. "Mr. Winner told me to keep my position and wait until Jennings was behind the wall, and then I was to take cover in the room behind us and wait there, no matter what."

"And did you?" inquired Preventer Chang, looking at Mark with such an intensity that he couldn't help but squirm.

"I..." Mark decided that it was better to ignore the question and continued with his report. "Mr. Winner got up from where he was, crouched behind the wall, and headed for the stairs. His arms were hanging at his sides but the guns were still firmly grasped by his fingers. I peeked from my position; I had to see what was happening." Mark directed his eyes to the wall again. "Jennings was with them, she was being held at gun point by a man that had his hand closer to her breasts than was necessary.

You made a smart choice, Mr. Winner, - said the man with the gun. – Would you kindly put both your weapons on the ground.- 

Mr. Winner kept his head high. I've never seen a man look so superior while surrendering. – Let her go first, - he said, not moving from his position in front of the stairs. –Then I'll surrender my weapons and myself.-

The man laughed. – And why should I believe you? – he asked.

- Because, unlike you, I'm a man of honor.-

I don't think the man was too happy with that statement since the smile on his face turned into a frown. However, the man took the gun away from Jennings' head and pushed her forward. She stumbled a little but managed to keep her balance. She walked towards me quickly, but I noticed her slowing down a bit when she walked beside Mr. Winner. Her lips moved and I'm fairly certain that she thanked him.

Mr. Winner kept looking forward. I really can't explain how he knew that Melissa, I mean, Jennings, was beside me, but the moment she was safe behind the wall, Mr. Winner's weapons touched the floor." Mark hesitated a moment before continuing. The picture of Melissa in the hands of those men was still lingering in his mind. They weren't a couple, but that didn't mean that he didn't care for her, and after going through something like that, he was beginning to wonder if he should put his worries aside and simply ask her out.

A polite cough brought Mark back to the present. Thanks to Mr. Winner, he would have time to contemplate his love life later. Now, he had to do everything he could to help find him. "The man ordered Mr. Winner to get on his knees and to put his hands behind his head. Mr. Winner did as he was told, his head still held high. The man walked up to him and cuffed Mr. Winner's hands behind his back. They left quickly after that; they even left their wounded behind."

"Are you telling me that you stayed there and watched Quatre being kidnapped?" Mark blinked, and when he opened his eyes he found Chang staring at him.

Mark shivered. "I w-"

"Are you a trained Preventer or not?"

"Wufei, calm down," said Lady Une.

Preventer Chang ignored her. "You let him protect you when it was supposed to be the other way around?"

Cold sweat traveled down Mark's back.

The unknown man walked behind Preventer Chang and put a hand on his shoulder. The Chinese man calmed visibly.

"Thanks, Johansen," said Lady Une. "You are dismissed. I expect a written report in the morning."

Mark nodded and left the room. As soon as the door closed behind him, he let out a sigh of relief. He walked slowly away from the door, his mind still thinking about Preventer Chang's accusations. Mark knew that they were true, and he was still wondering if there was anything more he could have done. However, the selfish part of him was reminded that the attack had only left four survivors. Even Captain Martinez had died, and he had been the agent with more experience.

At the end of the hall, Mark could see Melissa waiting for him. He smiled at her. It was thanks to Mr. Winner that he and Melissa were alive. Mark had never had an opinion on Gundam pilots, but if they were all like Mr. Winner, they surely didn't deserve to go to jail.

As he approached Melissa, he made a decision. He was going to ask her out.

* * *

Abdul didn't like big cities. They felt artificial, even if they were on Earth. The tall buildings and the polluted streets made him miss the dryness and the heat of the desert. At least it was calm. However, Abdul had never declined an assignment, and this one was personal. It was for all the Maguanacs, but he had still asked Rashid for the mission. It didn't matter that every man in the Maguanac Corps had volunteered too; they only needed two men for the operation, and Ahmed and Abdul had used all their influence to make sure that they were the ones assigned to it.

After hearing the news, Rashid had assembled the Maguanacs and told them that they needed two men to go and see if Master Quatre needed any help. Many had voiced suggestions of rescuing the ex Gundam pilot and hiding him with them, but Rashid had refused. He had said that Master Quatre had already made the choice to stay and that they wouldn't be interfering with that. However, Master Quatre had been exposed, and there were bound to be some people looking for revenge against a Gundam pilot. The war had been an ugly business, and the blond had killed a lot of men. That was why Rashid had sent a couple of men to keep an eye on Master Quatre and to contact the other Maguanacs if help was needed.

"There is something wrong," said Ahmed, looking at the house through his binoculars.

The dim light of the rising sun allowed Abdul to see Ahemed's mouth twitching in a sign of worry. "What is it?" he asked, as he used his own binoculars to take a look at the house.

The place was surrounded by Preventers, but the Maguanacs had expected that. The weird thing was the broken glass lying around the perimeter of the house and the fact that the Preventers were closing up the area.

"I think we arrived too late," commented Ahmed. "Turn on the portable vid; let's see if there're any news about it."

Abdul got the small electronic device from his pack and turned it on. The screen was immediately filled by a woman's face. She was standing in front of a street, and there seemed to be some sort of commotion going on.

Using their advantage position on the roof of a house, Abdul looked trough his binoculars at a street a few blocks away. Sure enough, that was the place where the newswoman was located.

"We still have no information on the shooting last night," said the voice coming from the vid. "Preventers' officers are refusing to talk to us, but they keep promising that they will soon give an official statement. However, the question about what happened inside the Winner residence at four this morning is still unanswered. This is Sharon Parker at the site of the news."

Ahmed and Abdul exchanged a look. Whatever had happened was out of their hands, and they couldn't do anything until they knew more. Abdul searched for his cell phone and dialed a number which Rashid had told him to use only in case of emergency.

After a moment, someone answered at the other end of the line, "Maxwell."

* * *

TBC


	4. Chapter Four

**Sandstorm**

**By Misanagi**

****

Rating: R  
Pairings: None yet  
Warnings: Angst, violence, language  
Summary: Years after the war, the world is still wondering about the identities of the mysterious Gundam pilots. Now they have an answer.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the characters used in this fic.  
Archive: Gundanium Line  
  
Thanks to Anne and Haraamis, for being wonderful beta readers. hugs Thanks a lot!

* * *

Chapter Four

Trowa hopped out of the vehicle with Duo closely behind him. They both ignored the few officers who tried to tell them that they couldn't park in front of the building and ran to the entrance. Trowa suddenly came to a halt, and Duo had to use all his skills to stop from running into him.

Duo glared at the back of Trowa's head and opened his mouth to ask what had happened, when he noticed why the taller man had suddenly stopped. Two large men wearing Preventers' uniforms were standing in front of the entrance; their arms were crossed, and they had angry looks on their faces.

"State your business," said one of them in a husky voice. The man's head was clean shaven, and the skull was shining. Duo smirked as he pictured the man in front of the mirror, applying gel to his big bald head to make it shine.

"We are here to see Lady Une," answered Trowa. His tone was cold, and Duo couldn't help but smirk more when the bald man took a step back.

"Do you have an appointment?" asked the other man. He was as tall as the first, but he had an unruly mop of brown hair that somehow made him look taller.

Duo didn't like the way the brunet was looking down at him and Trowa. The man might be taller, but he was in no way better than them. The only reason why Duo didn't hate it when people looked down on him was because then he had the chance to prove them wrong. "We don't have an appointment. We are friends of Lady Une. She is expecting us." Duo gave the brunet a lazy smile.

The brunet laughed and elbowed his partner playfully in the ribs. "Did you hear that, John? They say that they are friends with the director." He laughed again. "And of course, we should let them come in since they say that they are her friends." They both laughed this time.

Duo grinned, hiding his desire to erase their smiles with a fist. "Would you just call her and tell her that Duo Maxwell is here?"

The men stopped laughing. The bald man was distractedly looking at the people on the street, ignoring Trowa and Duo completely.

"Kid, the director has more important things to do than to concern herself with the likes of you." The brunet looked annoyed.

"I don't have time for this," muttered Trowa. Before the men had time to react, Trowa jabbed his fist into the brunet's stomach. The man hands instinctively moved to his torso. Trowa took the opportunity to elbow him in the back of the head, making him fall unconscious on the floor.

The bald one stood there for a second, diverting his gaze from the street to see what was happening right beside him. The small hesitation provided Duo with all the time he needed. Taking advantage of his shorter height, Duo slammed his open hand into the man's chin. After hearing the bald man's teeth clatter, Duo kneed the man in the side and pushed him to the ground.

The room seemed to freeze. For a moment, all the people at the Preventers' HQ entrance could do nothing but stare at the scene. Trowa and Duo wasted no time and quickly ran to the closest elevator. The metallic doors closed before anyone in the room had time to react.

Duo leaned against the elevator wall. "Une is going to hang us for this." He sighed, but that didn't mean that he was sorry.

"It's her fault for having inefficient employees," replied Trowa. "What floor?"

Duo thought about it for a moment. He had been on Earth six months ago, and Wufei had given him a tour of the Preventers' HQ. The offices were all located on the seventh floor, but security had probably already alerted everyone, and Duo didn't feel like starting another fight. He smiled when he remembered that not /all/ the offices were on the seventh floor. "Fourth."

As soon as Duo saw the number three flash on the small panel on top of the door, he moved away from the wall. "Straight ahead, one right, one left, and down the stairs. Right, pass the library, one right, the last wall. Code B5."

Trowa nodded and stood beside Duo. If they wanted to avoid another fight they needed to be faster than the security of the building.

As soon as the doors opened, they dashed down the corridor. Trowa was a few steps in front of Duo and even if he had never been at HQ, he followed the route perfectly. As soon as he arrived at the closed door on the third floor, he dialed a twelve digit code on the panel, followed by another code just as long. The door opened and they stepped inside the office, closing the door behind them.

Duo sighed and let himself fall onto the leather couch in the corner of the room. He was glad that Wufei hadn't changed the emergency access code since the last time they had seen each other. The fact that they were in a time of peace hadn't made the former Gundam pilots less paranoid than what they had been during the war. Each of them had a set of emergency codes that they shared with the rest. After all, they only trusted each other, and there was nothing wrong in being prepared.

"Sit down, Trowa," Duo said when he noticed that the other man was just standing in front of the desk.

Trowa simply shook his head and leaned against the far wall. Duo didn't press the issue. He knew that Trowa was on a short fuse; the fact that he had attacked the men at the entrance was proof enough. Duo didn't blame him, and if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that he had a lot of buried anger too. The small adrenaline rush was wearing off and the questions about what had happened to Quatre were again the only thing he could think about.

"I knew that there were only two people crazy enough to start attacking Preventers in the organization's HQ," Heero's voice announced as soon as the door opened. He walked in, followed by Wufei, and the door closed behind them. "Was that really necessary?" Heero asked, not bothering with greeting anyone.

"If Quatre's been kidnapped we really have no time to waste with annoying doormen," replied Duo.

"Those men are trained Preventers assigned to guard the entrance of the building," Heero commented and leaned against the door.

"Well, they aren't doing their job very well." Duo was really in no mood for a lecture.

"They just weren't expecting to face Gundam Pilots," Wufei said and sat behind his desk. "How was the trip?" he asked, changing the direction of the conversation.

Trowa sighed. "What happened with Quatre?" Obviously he wasn't in the mood for small talk, and there was a pressing issue that they needed to tend to. Their friend had been kidnapped, and they weren't going to sit and chat.

"We've just heard the testimonies of the witnesses," Wufei answered. "We estimate that there were fifteen of them, all carrying automatic weapons with silencers and that they presumably had some inside information about the security in Quatre's house. That's the only way we can explain such an organized attack."

"Quatre installed that security system himself; how did they manage to get through that?" Duo knew that there were only a few people on the planet capable of penetrating Gundam Pilot security, and he knew all of them.

"I gave Lady Une the codes to disable the system. She had orders to keep Quatre under house arrest. It's standard procedure to have Preventers outside and inside the perimeter at all times. That wouldn't have been possible with the security system still in place."

"Quatre is not a standard... prisoner." Trowa spat the last word, making his tone say what all of them thought about the politicians' decisions.

"You think I don't know that, Barton?" Wufei's exasperation was clear in his voice. For the first time Duo noticed the dark patches under Wufei's eyes and the tired look on his face. Duo didn't doubt that the Chinese man had spent the last days doing everything in his power to make sure that Quatre stayed safe. He was probably blaming himself for what happened. Duo made a mental note to talk to Wufei later.

"I know, Wufei." Trowa's voice was apologetic. "It wasn't your fault." A look passed between Trowa and Wufei, but neither of them said anything else about it.

"Here is the information we have so far," said Wufei after a while. He handed Trowa and Duo some folders and then picked up the phone. "Lady, call off the search. Duo and Trowa are here."

* * *

Lady Une could feel the beginning of a big headache, and she didn't doubt that the cause was the Gundam Pilots. Since Duo and Trowa had made their grand appearance, she'd had to call off the security breach that had been reported, find replacements for the men guarding the entrance, explain that the whole disaster hadn't been a terrorist attack but an unscheduled drill, and find the security discs with Duo and Trowa in them and destroy them. Not to mention having to deal with the pilots themselves.

Une had explained to them more than once that she couldn't allow a group of civilians to interrogate the men in custody and had tried to convince them that she and Wufei would get all the information needed. Of course, she knew that with what had happened to Quatre, no amount of laws could stop the pilots. They had been terrorists before, and the fact that the current government had imprisoned Quatre Winner for being a Gundam Pilot wasn't a great incentive to follow the rules.

Finally, she had given up and told them that they could investigate Quatre's home but that they would have to do it on their own. Things were hectic enough, and she couldn't afford to have the Preventers organization under suspicion.

The senate had already been notified of Quatre's kidnapping, and Relena had been called for an emergency meeting. Sally had offered to act as Relena's personal bodyguard since Heero couldn't accompany her to the meeting. Une knew that there were very few people that Heero trusted with Relena's security. If he hadn't been completely confident in Sally's abilities, he would have never let Relena out of his sight.

After everyone had left, Une and Wufei had headed to the infirmary where the suspects were waiting. They ignored the doctor who tried to tell them something about the suspects' condition and walked right to their bedside.

Une noticed that the men were awake and looking very pale. A white sheet was covering them from the waist down, so she wasn't able to see their wounds. "Good morning, gentlemen. My name is Lady Une, and I'm the General Director of Preventers. This is Preventer Chang Wufei, and we are here to question you." The words were delivered in a harsh tone. She was showing the men that she was the one in charge. There was no time to play games. "Cooperation is in your best interest. We need to know who took Quatre Winner and where."

The men stayed silent, but Une noticed that their breathing was faster. She kept the smile from showing on her face. They were scared, and she intended to take every advantage of it. "I don't think I need to tell you that your situation is rather unfortunate. You were shot down, abandoned by your accomplices, and now you are in Preventers' custody. You'll be facing kidnap and murder charges, so that means you'll spend your lives in prison. And that is the best case scenario." Une kept her eye on one of the men. She smirked when she noticed that the man was breathing even faster.

Wufei remained silent. He was standing at the back of the room, arms crossed above his chest. His job was to look dangerous. Une knew that having someone silently observing the interrogation would distress the men just as much as her carefully planned words.

"I don't want to die," the man on the right whispered.

Wufei gave a dry chuckle, but Une ignored him. "Death isn't such a terrible fate if you think about the alternatives." She kept her voice neutral and said every word with as much detachment as she could. "You do realize that you helped to kidnap a Gundam Pilot, right?"

For a few moments the only sound in the room was the accelerated breathing of the men. Their eyes had grown very large, and Une could just smell the fear taking over them.

Her lips curled into a smile. "Those men were terrorists during the war. I'm sure you've heard enough stories about them. They won't be very pleased with your actions." Une turned and nodded to Wufei. She waited until he closed the door of the infirmary, isolating them from the rest of the base. "I don't like to play games, gentlemen. The deal is simple enough. Either you provide us with the information we need and face criminal charges, or we won't do anything to stop the Gundam Pilots from getting to you. And believe me, they will."

"You... you can't do that!" complained the one on the right.

"Just try me," Une replied coldly.

* * *

Trowa watched the buildings pass by. He wasn't paying much attention to Duo's driving or the soft music playing on the radio; his mind was too restless to concern himself with what was happening around him. No one had said a word since they left Preventers HQ, but even if under other circumstances Trowa wouldn't have minded the silence, he now felt that if he didn't focus on something, his mind was going to drive him mad.

Since Trowa had heard the word kidnapping, he had been imagining terrible scenarios. He felt powerless, and there was nothing he hated more than sitting and waiting. The possibilities of what might have happened to Quatre were endless. The blond was not only a member of one of the richest and most influential families in the world, but he had been a Gundam Pilot, and since that last piece of information had finally been released, the list of potential suspects had grown considerably.

The only thing that gave Trowa a little hope was reminding himself that if they wanted Quatre dead, they would have killed him in the mansion and not bothered to take him away. However, that fact wasn't as reassuring as it was supposed to be, and the question of why they wanted Quatre kept replaying in his mind.

The men had seemed very eager to capture Quatre, and they hadn't been above making threats and killing Preventers to succeed. Trowa and Duo had heard the recordings of the interviews with the different witnesses, and now Trowa couldn't get the image of Quatre surrendering out of his head. Trowa mentally cursed Quatre's bad habit of surrendering sometimes even when the battle was won. "Fuck!" Apparently, Quatre wasn't able to see that fine line that divided bravery from stupidity.

"No one is happy with the situation, Trowa," Duo said, without taking his eyes away from the road. "But I agree, this is fucked up!"

Trowa turned his head from the car window to look at Duo. Now Trowa had no doubt that he was losing it. He had cursed Quatre out-loud and hadn't even noticed. "It's not just that," he said after a moment. "Quatre can be fucked up, too." Trowa decided that he wasn't dealing with the silence as well as he'd thought. If he was going to start muttering curses, Heero and Duo might as well know just why he was doing it.

"He's a sneaky bastard," commented Duo waving his hand. "But he's fucking brilliant, too. Who knows how long he had been orchestrating this whole thing? However, I don't think the kidnapping was in his plans." Duo avoided running into another car, changed lanes, and accelerated again. "I love the guy, but right now, I just want to kick his ass all the way to the moon." The car stirred as Duo made another maneuver and accelerated again.

"From a strategic point of view, Quatre made the right decision." Heero was seated in the middle of the back seat, looking at the traffic, calmly. "Being unable to prevent the crisis, he instead focused his attention on lowering the possible casualties."

"By offering himself on a silver platter?" Duo was angry, and it only made him drive even faster. "He's my friend, Heero. I refuse to think of him as an affordable casualty."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it." Heero was using the rearview mirror to look into Duo's eyes. His expression may have seemed neutral to most, but those few who knew the real Heero Yuy could tell that Duo's remark had hurt him.

"Shit, Heero, I'm sorry." Duo moved his eyes from the mirror just in time to avoid collision with another vehicle and sighed. "I know what Quatre means to you. It's just that—"

"You needed to take your anger out on someone. I understand." Heero nodded, signaling that the issue was closed. They were all on a short fuse, but luckily they knew each other well enough to understand the reasons behind some of their actions.

The friendship Trowa had with the other former Gundam Pilots was something special that couldn't be shared with anyone else. As much as he loved Catherine, he always felt like there was an invisible barrier separating him from his adopted sister. The events in his life had shaped the person he was, and unfortunately, some of them divided him from a large population of the world. War was something that affected everyone's life one way or another, and what it had done to him could only be understood by another four people. That kind of experience formed a certain bond that Trowa doubted could ever be broken.

The reason why the pilots had managed to become such close friends, and even a family, was probably Quatre's doing. Trowa remembered the beginnings of the war, when all the pilots treated each other as strangers. Trust is a hard thing to gain, especially when one is fighting a war, and Gundam Pilots were suspicious by nature. Well, most of them.

Quatre had trusted Trowa from the first time they had met. The blond had showed great courage by being the one to take the first step. He had offered Trowa not only his trust, but also his friendship, and Trowa couldn't help but reciprocate the feeling, even if it was just a bit. Finally, the soldier in Trowa had surrendered, and he had offered Quatre his friendship in return. And then, in the heat of the battle, Quatre Winner had done something others had deemed impossible: he made a team out of the Gundam Pilots, a team that had won the war.

The jazz tunes that had been sounding on the car radio suddenly stopped, and a male voice announced that the station had interrupted the usual program to transmit a last minute news bulletin.

Trowa turned up the volume. "The Preventers' news office has just released a statement informing that this morning, at 3:25 am, the former CEO of Winner Enterprises, Quatre Raberba Winner, was abducted from his residence. Mr. Winner was under house arrest and awaiting trial after last week's discovery of his identity as a Gundam Pilot. The Preventers are working to find the culprits as well as Mr. Winner's whereabouts. Meanwhile, the senate has called an emergency meeting to discuss these recent developments on the Winner case..."

"So, I guess Une couldn't avoid the press any longer," commented Duo, turning the volume back down.

"It was going to come out sooner or later," Trowa said. "This type of thing can't be hidden forever."

"Which means that we are going to have to be very careful," added Heero. "We can't afford to be seen and become suspects."

Heero was right. If they wanted to find Quatre, they had to be as subtle as possible. If their identities were compromised, then the chances of finding Quatre would be cut in half. "Any ideas of how we are going to get into Quatre's house undetected?" asked Trowa.

Duo smirked as he made a turn just before they reached the line of reporters who were stationed on the street near Quatre's home. "We're just going to need a little help."

* * *

Relena didn't need to turn around to know that Sally was glaring at Anilievich. She had heard the older woman curse under her breath several times during the senate session, and Relena didn't doubt that given the opportunity, Sally would punch Anilievich in the face... more than once. Relena smirked at the mental image. She wouldn't mind taking a swing at Anilievich herself. That man was quickly getting on her nerves.

Anilievich had spent the last three hours trying to convince everyone in the room that Quatre's disappearance was not the work of a third party, but a well orchestrated escape. He had argued that it was foolish to believe that a former terrorist would just sit and wait to be judged for his crimes. "Once a terrorist, always a terrorist," he had said.

That was the moment Relena exploded. She was usually very capable of controlling her emotions and keeping her cool and a smile, even when she was being attacked, but she was also human, and she had reached her breaking point. No one had the right to insult one of her friends like that.

Yes, she knew that the Gundam pilots had been terrorists during the war. Relena knew better than any of the old men agreeing with Anilievich what those "terrorists'" actions had been. She had witnessed their strength and also their weaknesses. They had saved her life more than once, and when the world forced her to grow up rapidly, they had been her example.

Contrary to popular belief, Relena wasn't naïve; she had seen more in her short years than what most of the people on the senate had seen in their lifetime. She was well aware that Quatre, as well as the other Gundam Pilots, had taken a lot of lives during the war, but she also knew that they had saved many more by ending the dispute. It was foolish to believe that in times of war there was still such thing as innocence, especially for those who were immersed in the conflict. Relena was a pacifist; she had always believed that violence was not the answer, but that hadn't stopped her from pointing a gun at Lady Une. If the situation wasn't so severe, she would have laughed at Anilievich's foolish ideas of judging acts of war under peacetime laws. Those were two worlds as different as day and night. Relena just hoped that she could make the senate see that.

The moderator nodded at Relena, signaling her turn to address the senate. "I feel the need to express yet again my disagreement with Minister Anilievich's theory. I fail to see how Mr. Winner would beneficiate from a course of action like the one Minister Anilievich suggests. We have established that a man with Mr. Winner's resources and capabilities could have vanished months ago. If he planned to escape all along, then why did he stay?" She kept her back firm and her eyes trained on Anilievich. Her expression was hard and her mouth was pressed into a thin line.

Anilievich chuckled before looking at Relena from head to toe. "Well, if it isn't Vice Foreign Minister Darlian to the rescue again." Some muffled chuckles could be heard in the room. "What we are trying to determine here is what really happened this morning, and we are basing our theories on facts, not on a young girl's suppositions."

"And what facts might those be, Minister?" Relena had really had enough. Her father had taught her that one must always be polite but that she should never be afraid of taking the aggressive position. Politics were a game of power and charm, and she was well trained in both fields. "Unless you have some new Preventers' information that the rest of the senate isn't aware of, then you are basing your theories on suppositions as well. However, logic is still on my side."

Fortunately, the president decided to close the session before the discussion could develop into a fight between Relena and Anilievich. After more than three hours of debate, the only conclusions were that even if Anilievich's theories could be possible, nothing could really be said until the Preventers were finished with their investigation. However, the damage was done. Relena knew that at least half of the members of the senate saw some logic in Anilievich's accusations. The man had managed to plant his evil seed, and the tree of suspicion was now growing.

Sally cursed the man all the way to Relena's home, but Relena wasn't really listening. She was tired, and she knew that the battle had just begun. As much as Relena appreciated Sally's thoughts, she felt just too drained to talk or even think about Anilievich anymore.

By the time Relena had entered her house, she was ready to collapse. Sally had offered to stay in one of the guest rooms and Relena had accepted. After she had assured Sally that she was alright and that she would be going to bed momentarily, Sally had headed for her room.

Relena decided that she wasn't hungry and that there was really no need to eat dinner that night. Food wasn't a priority at the moment, rest was. She slowly walked the steps up to her room, cursing her high heels all the way.

When she approached her room, Relena noticed a slim line of light coming from under her bedroom door. She frowned. Her house was equipped with a system that turned off the lights automatically if it couldn't detect a warm body in the room. The system was designed to help saving resources, and many people on Earth and the Colonies used it. As far as she knew, the system was working correctly, so that could only mean one thing.

After taking a deep breath, Relena opened the door and looked inside.

The intruder was standing in the middle of the room, expecting her.

Relena blinked a couple of times. She could do nothing but stand there, looking at the uninvited visitor.

"I guess I was correct in coming here after all. You look terrible, Miss Relena."

"Dorothy," said Relena, recovering from the shock of seeing the blonde again after so long. The last time they had met was on the Libra, and they hadn't precisely parted on the best terms. "What are you doing here?"

Dorothy smirked. "Well, I came to watch the show, of course. This little affair with Quatre promises to be very entertaining."

Relena sighed. She was too tired to deal with this right now, but even so, Dorothy's presence was comforting somehow. Dorothy was always one to say what was in her mind, and that was a welcome thought after hours of dealing with hypocritical politicians. "I assume that you will be staying?"

"If I had wanted to observe from afar, I would have stayed home." Dorothy smiled and bowed to Relena. "Goodnight, Miss Relena."

"Goodnight, Dorothy."

The door closed, and Relena began to change into night clothes. Dorothy Catalonia wasn't one to sit and observe. When the moment came, Dorothy would make her move, and Relena could only wonder if it would be in their favor or against them.

* * *

TBC

* * *

_Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. You are great!_


	5. Chapter Five

**Sandstorm**

**By Misanagi**

Rating: R   
Pairings: None yet   
Warnings: Angst, violence, language   
Summary: Years after the war, the world is still wondering about the identities of the mysterious Gundam pilots. Now they have an answer.   
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the characters used in this fic.   
Archive:

Thanks to Anne and Haraamis, for being wonderful beta readers. hugs Thanks a lot!

* * *

Chapter Five 

They had been able to enter the house undetected. Heero didn't question how Duo had managed to contact the Maguanacs, but whatever he had done was worth it because they had created a distraction, allowing the two of them and Trowa to sneak in through the roof. There wasn't much security inside the house, so they were able to get to Quatre's study without a problem. They had been told that that was the room in which Quatre had spent the last few days, plus they knew it was where he used to handle all important affairs. It was the best place to start.

The state of the room wasn't what Heero expected. He knew that Quatre had been less than well, and that he had been drinking, but that hadn't prepared him to see the proof staring him in the face. The study smelled of alcohol. Quatre had probably spilled some of the liquor on the carpet, making the scent linger. Heero could see at least five empty bottles of wine and brandy in different places, and in addition to that, the room was a mess. There were papers and folders strewn all over the desk and the floor, making the place look as it had been hit by a hurricane. If this chaos had been caused by external forces, it wouldn't have been so unnerving. However, knowing that it was a reflection of Quatre's state of mind was unsettling.

Remembering the testimony he had heard from Preventer Johansen, Heero tried to recreate what had happened here just a few hours before. According to that story, Quatre hadn't had the time to do much else than grab his weapons and head for the door. Yet, Quatre had always been a very meticulous person, so, no matter how disastrous the room looked, Heero knew that it was filled with clues, and some of them had probably been laid by Quatre himself.

"This can't be good." Duo sounded like he usually did, but there was worry hidden in his voice. He was standing near the door, looking at the room and shaking his head slightly.

Trowa walked to the large desk and sat on the leather chair behind it. He put his palms on top of the desk and looked around. "He didn't know he was going to be kidnapped," he stated after a moment.

Heero crossed his arms above his chest and leaned on the bookcase, waiting patiently for Trowa to elaborate.

"I don't care how desperate or depressed he was. If Quatre had had even the slightest suspicion that something was going to happen that required his intervention, he wouldn't have drunk so much." Trowa glared at the wine bottle near his right hand, as if it was responsible for Quatre's disappearance. "He thought he was done. These papers," he said waving some crumbled documents from the desk, "are money and property transfers." He let the papers fall on the table. "Quatre finished all his business before locking himself in this room and drinking himself into oblivion."

"If he had known that he had one last thing to do, he wouldn't have rendered himself incompetent," said Heero, following Trowa's line of thought.

"So he gave up." Duo sighed. "He was just waiting for Une to take him to jail. He never expected that last turn of events." He gave a sad chuckle. "Fate picks /this/ time to show Quatre he can't predict everything."

"Even the best tactician can be fooled by fate," replied Trowa.

Heero narrowed his eyes. Every mission had a number of variables that couldn't be predicted and also unexpected difficulties. The job of a good strategist wasn't only to find the most efficient way to complete the mission but also to reduce the number of loose variables to the minimum at all times, keeping casualties to the lowest. A tactician moved soldiers like pieces on a chess board, protecting those vital to him but also knowing that sometimes sacrifices were necessary. However, humans couldn't work as cold machines, and every decision or play would be questioned by the soldiers, even if they never voiced their doubts. Thus, a great strategist wasn't only one who knew the game, but one who also knew the players.

Quatre had been moving them without their knowledge, but it was safe to presume that he also knew that his closest friends were the biggest variable in the game. The question was whether he had been able to predict them.

"You're glaring at space, Heero. What's on your mind?"

He looked at Duo. "A few months ago Quatre contacted me. He said he needed to keep some documents secured, so he asked me to make him a vault that would be impossible to hack or destroy."

Duo looked confused. "That makes no sense. Quatre would have been perfectly able to do that himself. Why ask you?"

"He said he didn't have the time, and he required someone he could trust," answered Heero.

"I guess that makes sense. He was always very busy running WEI and working as a Colony representative." Duo sat on one of the chairs on front of the desk and turned it so he was facing Heero.

"I thought it was an acceptable explanation, so I built him the vault. A couple of days after it was delivered, Quatre resigned as Colony representative and started avoiding my calls."

"What are you trying to get at, Heero?" Trowa was looking at him, a slight fear hidden in his eyes by the urge to know more about Quatre's situation.

Heero didn't answer and silently looked around the room. After finding what he was searching for he glanced at Trowa. "Where would you hide a fifty cubical centimeter gundanium vault in this room?"

"Behind the bookca..." Trowa trailed off as he understood what Heero was trying to say.

Heero nodded once and without much effort, he pushed the bookcase away from the wall, making a simple small gundanium door visible. "The vault is not only made of gundanium, but it also has an internal defense mechanism. Any attempt to open it by force would result in the immediate destruction of the vault and any documents held inside. I designed the password protected program," Heero grinned, "and not even you would be able to get past it. This vault can only be opened by two people: Quatre, who knows the twelve digit musical encoded password, which needs to be changed weekly, and has the correct voice print..."

"And the person who built it," finished Duo.

Not bothering to confirm Duo's statement, Heero crouched on the floor and started typing in the commands to open the vault. Moments later a simple beep announced that access was granted, and Heero opened the door.

"What the fuck?" Duo crouched next to Heero to get a better look at the contents of the vault.

Every picture Quatre had taken with any of the ex-pilots was stashed in an orderly fashion inside the vault. Heero took one of the piles and noticed that Duo had pulled out the other, handing half of the photos to Trowa. Every picture had a date on the back, written in Quatre's elegant handwriting.

There was one Heero clearly remembered. Quatre and Relena had had to go to one of the L4 colonies for a meeting, and Heero had traveled with them. Heero and Quatre had spent most of their time together, since Relena seemed to be busier than Quatre was. They hadn't done anything special and had hardly left the hotel, but they had talked. In only a couple of days they had shared those conversations only good friends can have; from the meaning of life to their favorite vegetable. Relena had convinced them to let her take a picture, and that was the one Heero was holding.

Relena had a copy in her living room. Heero had never understood why she liked that picture so much. She had plenty of pictures of Heero and Quatre, but she always said that this one was special. Heero had thought that there was nothing different about it, but now he was able to see something: Quatre's eyes were sparkling. The mouth might be the same as was in all the magazine pictures taken of him, but his eyes said that it was a true smile. And even more amazing was Heero's expression. He was smiling, not at the camera, but somewhere beyond it; at the person holding it. Relena.

"There is a letter here, addressed to us."

Heero lifted his eyes from the picture to stare at Trowa who was holding a white envelope in his hands. There, in the same elegant handwriting, Heero could read four names. "Open it."

Trowa carefully opened the letter, making sure that the envelope wasn't torn. He unfolded the papers inside and spared a look at his friends before beginning to read.

/"There is no polite way to address this letter, and if I know you well, I'm sure you don't care about formalities; so forgive me if I'm rude and direct.

If you are reading this I have been arrested and, as I suspected, you have come to my home hoping to find out more about what happened, and maybe even some answers.

I have to admit that there is much I ignore. A trustable source warned me about certain members of the press getting very close to discovering my role in the wars, and their plans to go public with it. I met with these people and was pleased to find out that they only knew about one of us: me. After trying various times to intercept the news, I finally realized that there was no stopping the bomb, so I decided to buy time instead, enough time to keep as many people as I could from being affected by it.

When I first decided to pilot Sandrock, I knew that there would be many sacrifices to be made, and I was ready to make them all. We all had a greater objective in mind, and that was peace. If we have learned one thing from the Marimeia incident, it is that peace is a fragile thing, especially in a world that is only just learning how to live with it. You fought beside me, you made sacrifices of your own, because you knew that it would be worth it. I'm afraid there is one last sacrifice we have to make, and that is for me to stay imprisoned.

We didn't fight for so long to see things crumble at our feet after the battle has been won. Remember that if you do something rash now, it would all have been for nothing.

I know it's selfish, and I might have no right, but I need to ask a favor from you: Don't turn yourselves in. Yes, I can read you that well. There is really no need for all of us to go to jail, and there might come a day when one of you will be needed on the outside. I have to ask you to stay away. It is impossible to tell when someone will put two and two together, and I don't want you to get involved in my problems. I'll be happy if I know that you will be living your lives, not worrying about me. I know what you are thinking, but the guilt you are feeling is unfounded, and it will go away with time. I know I hurt you with my coldness and avoidance these last few months, and I hope that you can forgive me, but believe that I had the best intentions at heart.

Heero, I didn't lie to you. My most precious possessions lie in this vault.

Please, take care.

Your friend,

- Quatre"/

Trowa closed the letter, and Heero could tell that he was trying hard not to crush it in his hand. Duo was quiet, his lips pressed into a thin line. Heero took one last look at the picture and glared at Quatre's image; "You really are a true tactician."

* * *

Quatre resisted the urge to groan. He wasn't sure what, but there was something that told him that he needed to stay quiet and pretend to be asleep, at least for the time being. He wasn't one to doubt a sense that had gotten him through the war.

His head spun and in the course of a second, his memories of the last week crashed down on him: The news cast, the alcohol, Lady Une's face, the shooting, the trunk, the strong smell of cigarettes, the whispered thanks from that Preventer he had saved, the last dinner he'd had with Sulamita, and the taste of the first sip of Casillero del Diablo, as he waited for the inevitable.

He bit the inside of his mouth and forced his thoughts to calm. There would be time to let his mind wander wildly later, but now he needed to concentrate. He noticed that he was in a sitting position, but he didn't try to move. Quatre had managed to keep his breathing stable, even when the dizziness overtook him, which made him marvel at his own self control. Ignoring the sound of his own breathing, Quatre concentrated on the noises of the room. It was quiet; too quiet for his taste. He decided to hold that thought for a moment; the important thing was that he now knew that he was alone.

Confident that no one would see him, Quatre opened his eyes and braced himself for the inevitable sting that would follow when he was faced with the light, but nothing happened. He blinked a couple of times, and his eyelashes brushed the fabric over his eyes. He had been blindfolded.

Moving his hands carefully, he was able to hear the clicking of the handcuffs against the metal of the chair. His hands were cuffed between the bars on the back of the chair. His back had been resting on his arms, and as soon as he moved, he could feel his limbs awakening painfully.

His feet had been bound, each one to a foot of the chair. Quatre tried to stand or move the chair but it wouldn't budge. It was probably nailed to the ground. He stopped moving and tried to find a comfortable position. Leaving wasn't much of an option at the moment. He was barely keeping himself from vomiting, and with every motion he felt his brain crashing against the walls of his skull.

Of course, he couldn't complain, not even to himself, since it all had been his fault. One thing kept repeating itself in his head over and over; 'stupid, Quatre Winner, you are stupid.' Quatre thought about the events of the last few days, not believing the sea of self pity in which he had allowed himself to drown. Had he been so blind that he hadn't even been able to think rationally? No, rationality had nothing to do with what he had done. He had finished his work and with that, he had let his sanity take a short leave, and a depressive part of himself – that he didn't even know existed – had taken over. The alcohol should have been enough warning. Quatre had always tried to stay away from it, not only because it fogged the mind, but also because he had no taste for it. Where had that rational part of himself been when he had ingested bottle after bottle?

And that wasn't the worst of it. Quatre had made the most fatal mistake a soldier could make: he had let his guard down. Wasn't he being detained for being a Gundam Pilot? A high skilled soldier? He should have known better; he should have remembered that even when the battle seemed lost, and one had already surrendered, there was always the chance of the unexpected, and a soldier needed to be prepared. Quatre laughed bitterly at himself; 'Stupid'.

His throat was on fire and his mouth was dry. He tried not to think about the thirst. After having had to endure long and hard journeys in the desert, he knew that the key to deal with thirst, at least for a little while, was to keep his mind distracted.

Forcing himself to focus on important things, Quatre tapped his foot on the ground. He had been wearing black moccasins when he entered his studio that night to hear the newscast. The sole was made of wood, and it would make a distinctive sound when he walked on the marble floor of Winner Enterprises' offices. Quatre tapped again. The sound was muffled, but the surface he hit was even. Concrete, he concluded. That could explain the unusual silence.

Since he had first arrived on Earth, Quatre had learnt that nothing was ever quiet. Nature was full of sounds, and if one knew how to listen, those sounds could tell everything one needed to know. Silence could tell him things too. He was probably in a basement, locked up below ground level, where the sounds of the exterior would be muffled by the rich soil. The concrete floor might indicate that the room had concrete walls as well, and that they were serving as another sound barrier.

Unfortunately, the kidnappers had forced Quatre into the trunk of one of their cars and had sedated him immediately. He hadn't been able to hear the sounds before he had woken up in that silent room, and that isolated him from the world more than the blindfold ever could.

He let out a frustrated sigh. It was really ridiculous how easily he had been taken down. If he hadn't been suffering from an alcoholic overdose, he would have been able to hear the kidnappers entering his house, no matter how silent they thought they were. But no, he had been too busy sleeping in his drunken state to notice that anything was wrong until that Preventer had come into the room. His name was Mark, if Quatre remembered correctly, and he was a good man. Not many would have thought of coming to warn him. What Mark had done not only showed courage but also kindness and intelligence. That was a lot more than Quatre could say about the way he himself had acted. It was frustrating to think about it; he felt like someone had just thrown a bucket of cold water over his head.

However, this wasn't the time to beat himself up over his past mistakes; he was sure that he was going to find the time to do that later. Now, he needed to concentrate on not making any more, and hopefully finding a way to escape. He was at too much of a disadvantage at the moment, so he would just have to wait until he knew enough to make his move.

Waiting wasn't good. Quatre had an active mind, even when his head felt like it was splitting in two thanks to the hangover, so it was very difficult for him to relax. His thoughts were wandering to a place he didn't want them to go. He already felt bad enough, physically and emotionally.

But it was impossible not to. They were his friends, his comrades, the closest people to him... and he had hurt them. Quatre didn't want to admit it to himself, but that had been the main reason for his drinking. Thinking about them was too painful. The guilt was always there, and the liquor seemed to be a good way to evade it. He should have known that one could never escape his conscience for too long, since it was never truly left behind.

Guilt was never a good feeling, but Quatre preferred living with the guilt of having hurt his friends rather than knowing that his neglect could cause them to end up in jail. There was no point in all of them being locked up. Quatre was perfectly able to face the consequences of his acts alone and take responsibility for the rest if necessary.

It was true that they hadn't become a team until the final stages of the war, and that until then, they had only had a shaky feeling of camaraderie, not friendship. They had fought alone for very long and had done things their way. Quatre didn't care that what each pilot had done in that time technically wasn't his responsibility. For him, the fact that they all had put their lives in his hands at the end was enough to make it his duty to take care of them, and it made him accountable for their future acts as well as their past.

Even with all that had happened, Quatre couldn't be more grateful that the press hadn't discovered the identity of any other pilot. After he had learnt that Sharon Parker, the most respectable reporter on Earth and the colonies, was getting really close to finding out about his role as a Gundam Pilot, he had done what he could to conceal as much information as possible. However, Sharon had managed to get some information Quatre hadn't been able to stop and he hadn't even been able figure out where it had come from. He had tried to use his influence to stop the news, but there was no bribe or threat that would make the reporter change her mind. In the end, he had settled for using every means he could to delay the news as much as possible and had managed to do it successfully for a few months. Quatre had used that time to make sure that everyone he cared about wouldn't be affected by Sharon's newscast. He had worked sixteen hours a day, transferring all his assets and WEI into the capable hands of two of his sisters: Sulamita and Fatima.

Whatever time wasn't used for dealing with WEI affairs, Quatre would spend making sure that all the remaining information about the other Gundam Pilots was well concealed. After the news of his role in the war was released, many would try to find whatever information they could about the other four mysterious pilots, so Quatre made it a priority to make sure that their search would prove futile. Furthermore, he isolated himself from the pilots and any mutual friends they had. He couldn't afford anyone associating him with them; it was too risky. He thought about getting rid of all the physical evidence he had of his friendship with the other pilots, but in the end, he couldn't make himself burn something so precious to him. Instead, he hid it in a secure place. As much as he felt it was needed, he couldn't cut his ties with his friends, not without at least saying goodbye. That was why he had left the letter; they at least deserved an explanation.

The noise of a door opening brought Quatre back to the present. He raised his head and remained still, waiting patiently for whatever would happen.

Even from behind his blindfold, Quatre could perceive the light invading the room. He couldn't see anything, but the soft orange glow that filtered through the dark fabric was enough to let him know that he was no longer in the dark.

The door was shut immediately, and the intruder walked closer to Quatre. The steps were slow, and that made Quatre think that the intruder was looking at him, trying to analyze him. He thought about saying something to put the intruder off balance but decided that it was better to wait and let the other speak first.

"It's good to see that you are conscious," said the intruder. Quatre recognized the voice immediately. It was the man who had threatened to kill every Preventer in his home if Quatre didn't surrender; the one who had captured him. "We were starting to get worried. We weren't sure if the sedative we gave you would have a negative reaction to all the booze you had drunk."

Quatre remained silent. He knew those words were only meant to provoke him, and Quatre wouldn't give the man the satisfaction.

"Since you are better now," continued the man after waiting for a while, "I guess I can start the questioning. There is no use in wasting time."

So they were looking for information, not money. There were so many reasons why someone would want to kidnap him that Quatre wasn't really sure what their motives were. Now he did, and that gave him his first advantage over his enemy.

"We know that you were a Gundam Pilot during the wars-"

"The whole world knows that," interrupted Quatre, speaking for the first time. "In case you missed it, there was a newscast about it a few days ago."

The man snorted. "Well aren't you just a little cocky for being chained to a chair? If I were you I would stay silent until instructed to do otherwise."

Quatre thought for a moment that following the man's advice might be the sensible thing to do. His voice was raspy, and his throat was burning. Every word he spoke made his throat hurt even more. That was it, he would never drink again. "Thanks for your advice," replied Quatre, stubbornly. "It's very much appreciated."

A fist clashed with Quatre's jaw, sending his head back. He let out a hiss and gritted his teeth against the pain. "Now listen, kid. I might have some respect for you, but I won't hesitate to use force to get the information I need. What I'm doing is too important."

Quatre cleared his throat painfully and wet his dry lips. "What's this very important thing that you are doing that justifies killing so many Preventer officers?"

"I would have thought that a Gundam Pilot would know that some lives are expendable when fighting for a greater cause."

The man's words hit him harder than the fist had done. The fact that he had killed during the war didn't mean that every life he had taken didn't weigh on his conscience. He had covered his hands with blood, hoping to create a world where no one would ever have to do that again. The peace that had followed the wars wasn't perfect, but at least it was a start. However, peace wasn't a time period, it was a state of mind, and many people still lived in war. This man was proof of it.

"We are fighting for a just cause," continued the man, "and we need your help."

"That's what they always say," replied Quatre. The arrogant tone was no longer in his voice, and those last words were delivered with extreme sadness. "That's what they always think."

"We are not playing!" the man sounded angry. "We are not a silly rebel group. We are fighting for freedom!"

"I know you are," replied Quatre. "At least that's what you believe." Quatre didn't want to argue with the man. He didn't doubt that the man was convinced that everything he did was for the greater good, and faith like that couldn't be shattered by a few words. However, Quatre also had his beliefs, and he wouldn't betray them, no matter what.

"We need you to give us all the information necessary to re-build the Gundam known as Zero."

"No." The word left Quatre's lips before he could even think about the request. It was an automated response, but it had been the right one. There was no way he was telling the man anything that would help him bring another era of war, and rebuilding Zero would definitely do that.

Quatre felt a hand grasp his chin, forcing his head back. "Don't be stupid, kid. I will get this information no matter how hard you try to resist."

A smile found its way to Quatre's lips. He closed his eyes, not caring that it didn't really make a difference. "Let's begin then, and you will find out just how stubborn I can be."

* * *

TBC 


	6. Chapter Six

**Sandstorm **

**By Misanagi**

Rating: R/ M  
Pairings: None yet  
Warnings: Angst, violence.  
Summary: Years after the war, the world is still wondering about the identities of the mysterious Gundam pilots. Now they have an answer.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the characters used in this fic.  
Archive: Gundanium Line

Thanks to Anne and Haraamis, for being wonderful beta readers.

* * *

Chapter Six

They had been driving in silence for more than an hour. The sun was already rising, and Wufei was fighting to stay awake; he didn't want to think how long it had been since he had slept last. The only thing keeping him awake was determination and controlled anger. He didn't want to talk; he knew that if he opened his mouth there will be no stopping the recriminations he didn't want to voice.

He respected Une. She was a strong woman, the director of Preventers, and very smart and competent. People made mistakes, and Wufei knew that no matter how remarkable anyone was, erring was human. However, this particular mistake had put Quatre's life at risk, and that made Wufei's anger conflict with his logic. It would have been easy if Une was the only one at fault, but Wufei felt responsible too, and he wouldn't let himself forget that.

"This is not the time for recriminations, Chang. Stay focused." Une didn't take her eyes off the road. She probably didn't need to look at Wufei to know what he was thinking. They had been working together for too long her not to be able to predict him at least that much. Wufei nodded instead of replying verbally. She was right. They needed to stay focused on the objective if they wanted to find Quatre.

The captured men hadn't lied when they said that they had ignored where the kidnapers had taken Quatre. Wufei had seen it in their eyes; they had been scared. Their convictions were weak, and they were not about to sacrifice themselves to keep a secret that held no special meaning for them. They had been in it for the money; the reasons or methods they used hadn't been important. In Wufei's eyes, they had sold their souls.

Apparently, whoever was behind Quatre's abduction had known that those who only cared about money were not trustworthy and had purposely kept information from them. The men in custody had only been able to give Wufei one useful piece of intel: a name.

"This is it," said Une, stopping the car in front of a small house. "Let's just hope he hasn't fled town yet."

Wufei nodded again. "We know he had plenty of time."

Une turned to look at him, her eyes hard. "Don't think I don't feel guilty about this. I know that it was my decision to put Livinson on guard at Quatre's house. You warned me, but I still made the decision. I was lacking personnel, and I didn't consider the option of being one  
man short just because you hadn't done a background check on him yourself. It was the wrong decision." She blinked, but her eyes never lost that hard expression. "I dismissed him the next day, but by then it was already too late. I can't change the past, but I can work to  
rectify my error of judgment."

Wufei smirked. Une was a strong woman, and she wouldn't let an error of judgment slow her at all. "Very well. Let's get to work then," he said and got out of the car.

They didn't bother to knock. Wufei kicked the door open, and he and Une entered the house; their guns ready and their eyes scanning the place.

Andrew Livinson was standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by boxes of all sizes and holding a large one in his hands. As soon as he noticed Une and Wufei, he dropped the box and took a step back. "What… what are you doing here? Ma'am, Sir?"

Une ignored Livinson's question. "Are you in a hurry to leave town?"

"No! It's just that," Livinson passed a hand through his hair, "since I was dismissed, I thought I should go back to New York."

"You thought, huh?" Une put her gun away, but Wufei kept his trained on Livinson. "You are not fit to think for yourself. That's why you are supposed to follow orders, and I don't remember ordering you to run away."

Livinson visibly paled. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, remaining quiet.

Wufei had decided to stay silent and let Une interrogate Livinson; she was good at it. After working at Preventers, Wufei had perfected the "silent but deadly" look, and he was very fond of it. He knew that by now, Une's passive aggressive actions were probably getting more to Livinson's nerves than his gun.

Une moved to a small couch by the window and sat down. She crossed her legs and extended her arms on the back of the sofa. "I'm sure that by now you are aware that Quatre Winner has been kidnapped." She paused for a moment and then fixed Livinson with a glare. "The perpetrators had inside knowledge of the compound, the security system, and the  
Preventers' shifts and positions inside and outside the house. Now, what does that tell us, Livinson?"

Livinson shifted his gaze between Une, Wufei, and the gun. "Ma'am?" he said in a weak voice.

"Come on, Livinson." Une's voice turned colder. "Are you a Preventer agent or not? What can we deduct from the evidence?"

"That there was someone on the inside working with the perpetrators?" Livinson sounded terrified, and his voice became smaller with every word he spoke.

"Very good, Livinson." Une suddenly stood up, looking down at Livinson so harshly that if Wufei had been anything less than a Gundam pilot he wouldn't have been able to stand that look. "I'm going to say this only once so pay attention. You have one chance to tell us everything, and I suggest you take it." Her voice dropped an octave, and she moved closer to Livinson, as if she was going to share a secret. "I'll tell you the same thing I told the men we have in custody. Either you talk to us and face the legal consequences of your actions, or when the Gundam pilots come looking for you - and I assure  
you they will – we'll do nothing to stop them."

By then, all color had left Livinson's face; he looked more like a ghost than a person. His breaths were quick, and he was shaking his head slowly.

"Don't even think about running. Chang's aim is perfect."

Livinson couldn't even look at Wufei. His eyes were trained on the blue carpet. No one spoke for a moment. Finally, he took a step back and sat on a stool, putting his face between his hands. "They said they wouldn't kill anyone." The voice sounded muffled. "They said they would only take him and leave. They promised they wouldn't kill any agents."

Wufei's grip on the gun tightened. Livinson's stupidity and greed had fooled him into believing the promises of criminals. Thanks to that, twelve Preventers were dead and Quatre... Quatre was missing. "Obviously they didn't honor their word. You can start atoning for the deaths of your comrades by telling us all you know about the kidnapers."

"I didn't mean for this to happen," continued Livinson, shaking his head slowly. "No one was supposed to get hurt. They said they would take him and that his family would pay. They have enough money. No one was supposed to die."

"The agents are dead," replied Wufei. "No ransom demand has been made, and Mr. Winner's whereabouts are unknown. It's time to stop making excuses and start being useful. Who hired you?"

"I never met him. He contacted me by phone, the visuals were always off, and he didn't give me a name."

Livinson's behavior only told Wufei that they needed to be more selective with the recruits. The man wasn't smart enough to be a Preventer. He wasn't even smart enough to be a rat.

"When did he contact you last?" asked Une.

"Three days ago." Livinson bit his lower lip. "I tried calling yesterday to ask for the rest of my... of my money. He never answered."

"We'll need your phone," said Une, extending her right hand. "Slowly. And remember that Chang still has his gun trained on you."

Livinson nodded. He reached into his back pocket, taking out a small cell phone, and handed it to Une. She put it in her pocket and took her handcuffs out. "Put your hands above your head, Livinson."

The man looked terrified, but he still did as he was told. Wufei waited for Une to cuff Livinson before lowering his weapon. "Can you handle him?" he asked and received a 'have you forgotten who I am?' look in return. "I'll call the others then, and have them meet me here."

"You know I can't allow you to do that," she said. "They are civilians, after all."

Wufei snorted. "Civilians, Lady? They might not work for you, but you know as well as I do that the term is very inappropriate."

A small smile appeared on Une's face. "Preventer Chang, I think it would be prudent for you to stay here and search the house while I get the traitor to headquarters." She took Livinson's cellphone from her pocket and handed it to Wufei. "Good luck."

Une's position as the director of Preventers forced her to deal not only with the organization itself but also with the politics concerning it. She couldn't authorize a group of civilians to conduct an investigation, but she could ask an officer to follow some leads and trust in the officer's methods.

Wufei helped her get Livinson into the car. He then took his gear and the bag he had packed for Heero out of the trunk. Trowa and Duo had surely brought their things with them. After the car was out of sight, Wufei took out his own cellphone. "Yuy, I think I have something."

* * *

Sebastian Culler sat at the desk looking at the phone. The room had no windows and was illuminated by a single light bulb. The walls were bare and painted in a dull gray color that hid the dirt, but made the room seem smaller than it already was. The only furniture in the room was the desk and two aluminum chairs. It was a depressing view.

When he had decided to leave L2, Sebastian had been prepared to make many sacrifices. After all, no one expected to change history without having to pay some sort of price. Even if the room was nothing different from what he had seen during his whole life on L2, a part of him had that ideal of a green and beautiful Earth that had been publicized in the colonies. Earth was supposed to be different, but everything felt the same. Still, this place was the one in control, making life in space more difficult than it already was. And for what? So the people who enjoyed natural sunlight and could grow their own food without the need of expensive equipment could take over the colonies too? Didn't they already have enough? Earth may be the mother of the colonies, but for every child came the time for independence, and Sebastian wasn't about to wait any longer.

The phone rang, making Sebastian look at it in disgust. He sighed and picked up the receiver. It was an old phone, so there were no visuals available, but that didn't bother him. It wasn't like he could see her. For the time he had known her, she had never shown her face but she had, for the most part, insisted on seen him. This time, Sebastian wasn't particularly excited about the conversation, so the less she saw of him, the better. "I'm listening."

"Mr. Culler. I hope you've made some progress." The woman's voice sounded as commanding as always. She was used to being obeyed, and Sebastian was expected to do just that.

"Sorry, ma'am, the kid is tougher than I thought. I haven't been able to get a useful word out of him." It had been two days. He should have at least something.

"This kid, as you call him, is a former Gundam pilot. You'll do well not to underestimate him. Just like they underestimate me. But not anymore."

"They ma'am?" As soon as the words left Sebastian's mouth he wished he hadn't spoken. It wasn't wise to inquire about her half spoken revelations. She tended to stop making sense.

"The world. The world will underestimate me, and I'll have my revenge."

This time Sebastian chose to remain quiet. She was brilliant and had enough resources to finance their operation. She had been the one who had contacted him on L2 and proposed starting a revolution. With the money and the information she had, they could both make their dreams of a different world come true. However, from time to time she started to ramble, talking about revenge and power, and blaming 'them'. Sebastian wasn't really sure who 'they' were. Nonetheless, he tried to ignore that behavior. She was, after all, the leader, and all leaders were allowed to have their eccentricities.

"I need him to speak," she said, in a firm voice. "Our plans can't move forward without the information he has. Do whatever is required to make him cooperate."

A shudder ran through Sebastian's spine. When she used that tone he felt smaller than the smallest ant, and he knew that she would be ready to step on him if she thought it was necessary. "I'm trying, but the boy is as stubborn as they come."

"War isn't for the weak-hearted. One must be strong because war will find you, even if you try to hide, even if you try to ignore it. Pacifism is for the weak, for those who can't face war, and can do nothing but tremble at its presence... but you are not weak, are you, Mr. Culler?"

Sebastian shook his head, forgetting for a moment that she couldn't see him. "No, ma'am."

"And you are not weaker than him, are you?"

A few days ago, Sebastian would have answered 'no' without any hesitation. However, after spending the last couple of days immersed in a character battle with the boy, he wasn't so sure. She was right. The prisoner had been a Gundam pilot, and that made him much more than an ordinary boy. Never mind how young he looked, Quatre Winner had shown Sebastian just what a strong adversary he was. No threat, blow or promise could make Winner talk. The pilot's convictions were strong, and his patience was proving to be greater than Sebastian's.

On the other hand, it had only been a couple of days. Winner may have been a Gundam pilot, but he couldn't resist forever. Sebastian held all the cards in his hand, and he knew how to use them. Winner would break soon. "He's the weak one."

"Yes, Mr. Culler, he is weak and we are strong. We'll have the courage to finish what he started, and in the process we'll rise above all expectations."

There was an awkward moment of silence before Sebastian decided to focus the conversation again on practical matters. "The interrogation might take longer than expected, unless you are willing to let me use more force."

She gave an exasperated sigh. "I already said that you are not allowed to do anything that might jeopardize his piloting capabilities. Don't make me repeat myself."

"Excuse me, Ma'am, but I could pilo--"

"Silence!" She was aggravated. She was known for talking passionately but she rarely raised he voice. "/He/ needs to pilot. Let's face it, Mr. Culler, you might be a good revolutionary leader, but your combat experience is quite lacking. We don't only need a Gundam as a symbol for the rebellion; we also need a Gundam pilot. We need him."

"He will never do it," replied Sebastian softly. He already knew Winner well enough to understand that nothing would make him pilot to start another war. Sebastian would be lucky enough if he managed to get any information out of Winner. But making him pilot; that was downright impossible.

"You are just not approaching the situation the right way," she said, her voice calm again. "The prisoner will not yield if you only use physical force. He's stronger than that. You'll have to attack his mind too. Remind him of his crimes. Ask him if it was worth it. Question everything he is and what he deems important. Keep him alert. Visit him at different hours and never let him know what's going to happen. Make him feel pain all the time, both physical and emotional. Breaking a bone would do nothing. But make him doubt himself, and you will break his mind."

Sebastian took a deep breath. She had a way of saying the coldest things with the warmest voice. She was brilliant that way, and no amount of strange rambling could make Sebastian forget that. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Don't feel pity for him, Mr. Culler. He might look young and naïve, but he's far from that. He has taken more lives than you could ever imagine."

"I respect Winner. He fought to free the colonies; too bad he didn't finish what he started. But that's why we are here. I'll help him see the light, and then we all can fight for freedom."

"Beautiful, Mr. Culler. We'll have freedom and we'll have revenge. And the world will learn from its mistakes, and space will be beautiful again."

Sometimes Sebastian wished he could see her. He wanted to know the color of her eyes and see if they shone a different way every time she talked about their goal, or if they lost focus when she started to ramble. Her voice was the only thing he had to picture her, and no matter how much he tried, he always came up with a blurred figure. "When are we going to meet in person?"

"It's too soon for that." There was a single moment of silence. "After he joins us and the war starts, then we will meet. It'll be safe then."

Sebastian didn't know much about her. She had always said that revealing too much information too soon could be disastrous for their plans. They were careful. Their conversations were limited to business. What they were doing was too important to jeopardize. Sebastian had learnt that if he wanted things to change he would have to fight for it himself.

He had grown up in one of the poorest colonies of L2. After the wars, Sebastian, like many others, had hoped that things would change. The Gundams had fought to free the people of space, and a new and supposedly better nation had been born. However, no help ever came to his colony. Poverty was still the biggest issue; old people and kids died of hunger on the streets and no one ever did anything about it. The government said the war had crippled the economy, that their people would have to be patient because those who had been directly affected needed to be helped first. Earth had been the cause of the conflict in the first place, so why should the colonies continue to suffer while Earth rebuilt its fallen empire? It was time to fight for those who had been overlooked.

She had made it possible. Sebastian ignored her real reasons for fighting. He knew that she wanted to overthrow the corrupt government and help bring a new order where no injustices would be made. Someone had wronged her, and now she wanted revenge. Sebastian didn't fool himself; he knew that revenge was her primary objective, but even if her motivations weren't exactly like his, the path and destination were the same. He wanted to overthrow Earth's dictatorship over the colonies, and she wanted to free space from all the wrongdoers. And when they were done the world would have peace, at last.

"I'll look forward to our meeting," he said. "Until then, I'll work on getting you a Gundam and its pilot."

"Until then, Mr. Culler."

The connection was cut, and Sebastian got up from the desk. He had work to do.

* * *

It was cherry tea, probably imported and very expensive, but that shouldn't have surprised her; after all, Dorothy only bought the best. It tasted as good as it smelled. Relena hated to admit it, but Dorothy was right; that was just what she needed.

"The political arena has certainly taken a toll on you, Miss Relena." Dorothy sipped her tea, and after she pulled the cup away from her face, Relena noticed that she was smiling.

"It's been a rough couple of days," Relena replied politely.

Dorothy gave a short laugh and raised her chin. "Those lines under your eyes are a product of years of exhaustion. But I concede that these last few days have been especially hectic."

There was that taunting tone again, the one Dorothy had used since the first time Relena had talked to her. It made Dorothy seem like she was constantly amused. A superior stand if Relena ever saw one. "It seems like you have sufficient information about my life, Dorothy, while this is the first time I've seen you in years."

"We just dance in different circles. Amusing fact if you consider how alike we are."

Relena's common sense told her to ignore Dorothy's insinuation. However, Relena had a devious side that enjoyed playing Dorothy's mind games, and Dorothy was always a wonderful adversary. "Alike?" Relena repeated raising an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate?"

"I thought it was obvious." Dorothy waved her right hand, the tea cup still firmly grasped on her left one. "There isn't an abundance of rich, influential, powerful young people."

"However, you managed to avoid me for the last five years," replied Relena.

Dorothy pushed away a lock of hair that had fallen in front of her face. "You are mistaken, Miss Relena. I didn't avoid anyone. After the war, we both had more pressing affairs to take care of than our friendship."

Friendship wasn't a word Relena expected to hear from Dorothy, unless it was said in mockery or spoken with contempt. However, Relena knew that wasn't the case this time. After they had parted ways on the Libra, Relena would have considered her relationship with Dorothy as a noble rivalry, at best. Since then, Relena had only heard of Dorothy from other people. Most of what she had heard had been merely rumors that Relena didn't pay much attention to. Actually, the last trustable story she had listened to was what Trowa had told her while they waited for Quatre to get out of surgery. "You stabbed him," said Relena, more to herself than to Dorothy.

"He let his guard down," she answered immediately, knowing exactly who Relena was talking about. "His objective wasn't the duel, that's why he got hurt." There was nothing in Dorothy's tone that suggested any emotion, but Relena still felt that there was some longing hidden in her voice.

"I haven't heard from you since," Relena said, moving the conversation along. "As you weren't avoiding me, I wonder what kept you so busy."

Dorothy smiled. "Your tongue has sharpened since we last spoke."

"I've grown, Dorothy," said Relena coldly, "but so have you."

"Indeed, Miss Relena, we both have."

Deciding not to pay attention to the enigmatic statement Relena grabbed a cookie and took a bite before speaking. "I don't know why you insist on calling me that, Dorothy. We are the same age, and I'm not your principal anymore. If it's true that we are friends, then I insist you call me Relena."

Dorothy gave a small bow of her head. "As you wish, Relena."

It was weird how hearing her name without the honorific made Relena view Dorothy as more approachable. Dorothy's characteristic edge was still there, but Relena felt that she could take a glimpse at what was hidden behind Dorothy's walls.

Before Relena could speak, Sally walked slowly into the room. "Sorry to interrupt, Relena, but Une just called; I have some news."

Despite the words, Relena knew that Sally wasn't sorry for interrupting. When Sally had found out that Dorothy had managed to get inside Relena's home without much trouble, she had been about ready to replace every security guard with a Preventer. Relena had to remind Sally that her security staff had been handpicked by Heero himself, and that the only reason Dorothy had been able to get into the house was that Pagan recognized her and invited her in.

Sally had told Relena that she would respect her wishes to treat Dorothy fairly, but that as much as she wanted to, she couldn't trust Dorothy. Relena understood Sally's position. Dorothy had been an enemy and had hurt all the pilots with her actions, not just Quatre. And if there was something Sally was overprotective of, it was the pilots.

"Have they located him yet?" asked Dorothy.

"No." Sally looked at Dorothy for the first time without harshness in her eyes. "But Une and Wufei have caught the traitor. He has been taken back to Headquarters for questioning."

Dorothy snorted. "The strong Preventers, defeated by a bad brick in the wall."

Sally's back stiffened and her hands closed into fists.

"What about Heero, Trowa and Duo?" asked Relena, trying to break the glaring match between the two women.

"They are meeting Wufei somewhere." Sally returned her attention to Relena.

"So they are not returning to HQ?"

Sally shook her head, giving Relena a knowing smile. "Apparently they'll be busy, looking into other things."

Closing her eyes for a moment, Relena whispered. "They'll bring him back. They are Gundam pilots, after all." And they were also men she had learned to care for, and who deserved much better that still having to fight. Maybe peace was a privilege reserved for a selected few.

Relena forced herself to stop that train of thought. She smiled at the woman in front of her. "They'll be fine."

Sally nodded. "I'll leave you then. I have some duties to attend to." She didn't even glance at Dorothy on her way out. Relena sighed. The animosity between the two would not disappear any time soon.

"You are worried," said Dorothy after Sally left. "It's a useless emotion. Gundam pilots seem to be masters at avoiding death."

"Emotions don't listen to the mind," replied Relena. "This situation gets worse every hour Quatre is missing."

Dorothy looked at Relena questioning. "Surely you are not worried about Morris Anilievich."

"Partly," Relena admitted. "He is a disgusting man, but as long as we are playing the political game I have a chance of controlling him." She shook his head. "The economy of the Earth Sphere and the colonies is what worries me."

"Quatre resigned from Winner Enterprises. His disappearance is of no economical relevance."

"Technically it isn't, but..." Relena let the sentence die in her mouth and gave Dorothy a hard look. "Don't play naïve, Dorothy. I don't think there's a role you would be worse for."

Dorothy smirked. "I like to keep you alert, Relena; you can't let your guard down." She grabbed a chocolate from the bowl and took a small bite of it. "So you don't trust Sulamita Winner's abilities to keep WEI as the economical base of this new pacifist world."

"I've never met her, but I spoke to her yesterday," said Relena, slowly reaching for a chocolate too. "She called to thank me for my efforts to clear Quatre's name. It isn't my place to question Quatre's decisions, but Quatre is not an easy person to replace."

"Sulamita has had more experience and business training than Quatre. She has the tenacity needed to take care of WEI."

Relena raised an eyebrow. "Have you met Miss Winner?"

"Since the Winner sisters never take their husband's names once they marry, there are twenty eight sisters to choose from, so it's safe to say I've met Miss Winner."

An exasperated sigh escaped Relena's lips. Dorothy was hiding something and those word games were a dare to Relena, a way to force her to play. "Just how may Winner sisters have you met?"

Dorothy made a show of thinking. "Nineteen. I never had a chance to meet Iria before she died. Chaia is working somewhere in the jungle, studying orangutans. She's been there for over six years now. Sarah is a teacher at the Lawrence University and rarely leaves Earth. Yael hasn't spoken to Quatre or any of her siblings since the war. And as for the rest, it's just a case of never being in the same place at the same time."

Relena was speechless. Just how did Dorothy learn so much about Quatre's family? After the war Dorothy had almost disappeared. Whatever she had been doing, she had kept out of sight, until now. However, she knew more about the Winner sisters than Relena did, and Relena had been a close friend of Quatre's for the last few years. She had met five of Quatre's sisters, and only because of casual encounters. Quatre was close to his sisters, but he had never gone out of his way to introduce Relena to any of them. "How… How do you know so much?"

Dorothy gave Relena one of her amused smiles. "The Winner sisters are very important people in the social sphere. I realize your work has kept you busy, Relena. Maybe you've been too involved in the political scene to pay attention to the world around you."

There was truth behind Dorothy's words. Relena had immersed herself so much in her work that she had practically ignored the world. A part of her kept saying that if Quatre hadn't been her political ally, she wouldn't have noticed that he had distanced himself from her. Now that she thought about it, she had received an invitation to Hinda Winner's wedding less than a month ago. Hinda was one of the sisters she had met, but Relena was so busy, she had her secretary send a gift and ignored the event completely. "I should have gone," Relena whispered. If she had gone, maybe she would have known something was wrong. Maybe there was something she could have done.

"Where?" asked Dorothy, no curiosity in her voice.

"Hinda Winner's wedding," replied Relena, making a dismissive gesture with her hand.

"It was classy; a small affair. Hinda doesn't like the attention."

"You were invited?" The words came out as an accusation, even if Relena was more surprised than anything.

"I accompanied Quatre. It's not well seen to attend such an event without an escort."

Relena knew her eyes were wide. Her mouth was slightly open and as much as she wanted to process the information, for a few moments all Relena could do was stare at Dorothy.

Dorothy had been in contact with Quatre, they had been close enough for him to ask her to his sister's wedding. A month ago, after Quatre had cut ties with all his friends, he had seen Dorothy. Realization hit her and Relena's eyes went wider if that was possible. "You knew! You knew that Quatre's identity was going be revealed!"

Dorothy smirked. "Well of course, Relena. I was the one who warned him."

* * *

TBC 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Sandstorm **

**By Misanagi**

Rating: R/ M  
Pairings: None yet  
Warnings: Angst, violence.  
Summary: Years after the war, the world is still wondering about the identities of the mysterious Gundam pilots. Now they have an answer.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the characters used in this fic.  
Archives: Gundanium Line

Thanks to Anne and Haraamis, for being wonderful beta readers. hugs Thanks a lot!

* * *

Chapter Seven

Heero opened the door and exited the vehicle as soon as Duo hit the brakes. Wufei was waiting for them in front of the house, his Preventers' jacket hanging over one shoulder and his sunglasses on.

"This isn't the Preventers' car you left in," Wufei said, looking at the black jeep.

Duo closed the door behind him, just as Trowa was coming around the front of the jeep. "Well, that old piece of junk Une gave us wasn't gonna cut it, so we borrowed something more appropriate."

"Borrowed?" asked Wufei. "And who did you borrow this from?"

Duo grinned. "Quatre."

"He knows how to pick a vehicle," said Heero. There had been four cars and two motorbikes in Quatre's garage, all of them finely tuned, but Heero had a feeling that the jeep would prove more useful that any of the others.

"You said you had something?" Trowa's voice sounded strained. Heero could see the worry hiding behind Trowa's calmness. Trowa was right on the edge, and anything could push him over it.

Wufei turned around, walking inside the house. The others followed. "We caught the mole. This is his house. The man is thicker than a brick wall and had no useful information." He turned to Heero. "But he did have this." He extended his hand, holding out a small cellphone.

Heero took it and turned it over before opening it.

"He said he used it to contact the man who hired him." Wufei threw the jacket on the couch and took off his sunglasses. "Now we just need you to figure out who he was calling."

Heero smirked. They finally had a clue. He turned to Duo. "Keys."

Duo put his hand on his pocket. "I'll get your laptop for you," he said, walking to the door.

"Are there any more clues in the house?" Trowa asked, looking around the room.

"I combed the place before you arrived." Wufei sat on the couch and leaned back. "It's clean."

Trowa moved to a chair but seemed to change his mind. He looked around the room again before running a hand through his hair. "I have to do something."

"You can help me organize our weapons while Heero tracks down the bad guys." Duo was walking through the door. He had two backpacks on each shoulder, Heero's laptop in his right hand and the car keys in his left. After handing Heero the laptop, he walked to the center of the room and dropped the bags in the middle.

"That's a good idea," said Wufei, getting up from the couch, retrieving two bags from a corner of the room and putting them next to Duo's. "I packed some clothes for you, Heero, and I took the liberty of taking some stuff from the Preventers' armory."

Duo smirked and sat cross legged on the floor. "Great minds think alike." He opened one of the packs and started to pull out weapon after weapon. Trowa sat beside him pulling even more weapons from his bag.

"Gray suitcase," said Heero pointing to one of his bags. Great minds do think alike, or maybe it was only the soldier instincts that wouldn't leave them.

Heero took his laptop and the cellphone and settled himself at the small dining table. He could hear the others talking in the living room, but he ignored their voices and concentrated solely on the task at hand.

The cellphone was perfectly normal as far as he could tell, not very recent but still new enough to have a memory card. He opened the battery compartment and removed the small card at the back.

It didn't take him long to turn on his laptop and insert the memory card. Heero opened one of his hacking programs and started to quickly decrypt the information on the card. He narrowed down the possible contact numbers to five, three located in America and two in Europe.

With the timeframe of the kidnapping it was highly unlikely that Quatre had been moved to America, but the person calling the mole could be located there and not directly involved with the abduction. Heero searched all the past calls for encryptions, figuring that the kidnapers would try to make the line untraceable. Try being the key word. Heero knew they didn't have someone as skilled as him working for them.

The three numbers in America cleared easily. The calls had even been made using a prepaid card. There was nothing unusual about it, probably some relatives trying to get a hold of the cellphone's owner. Heero smirked. If the phone call had originated from Europe it was more likely that tracing it would lead them to straight to Quatre, instead of some middle man in the kidnappers' organization.

The two Europe numbers were heavily encrypted. The first one was a land line, and Heero struggled for ten minutes trying to break the code before he realized that he recognized the number, and the encryption. He felt like hitting himself. He was just trying to hack one of the Sank Kingdom Preventers' secure lines; a system he had installed himself. Une had probably used that line herself to contact the agent before they realized he was a traitor.

Shaking his head, Heero focused on the last number. That had to be the one. Whoever had made that call was the mole's contact. Narrowing down the location of a cellphone was a complicated task, especially if the signal was encrypted, but it only took Heero a few minutes.

"I got it." His voice wasn't more than a whisper, but he was heard by his friends. They quickly rushed to the table and gathered around Heero, waiting for him to explain.

"The call originated from Warsaw, Poland, from a mobile phone," announced Heero. "The signal has been coming from the same place since Quatre was taken."

"Do you have the exact location?" Trowa asked.

Heero nodded. "An abandoned neighborhood that was destroyed in the war. I can pinpoint the building once we are closer."

"Hell yeah!" Duo was grinning widely. "What are we waiting for? Let's get a plane and go get Q."

Wufei shook his head. "Stealing a plane or taking one from Preventers would attract too much attention. We don't need that right now."

Duo was about to protest, but Heero interrupted him. "Besides, there isn't any place to land nearby. The war really took a toll on this city, very few things still stand. I think our best option is to go by land."

"We are about three hours away," said Trowa, taking a seat beside Heero. "We have time enough to get supplies and scout the perimeter. By then the sun should be coming down. We can strike then."

"Is the equipment ready?" asked Heero.

"We have enough weapons, communication devices, credits, a GPS and some other fun stuff." Duo smiled wickedly. "We need to get some food and some medicine." His smile vanished. "We don't know in what state Q will be in..."

They all narrowed their eyes. It wasn't something they wanted to think about, but they were all soldiers, and they knew what was likely to happen in a hostage situation.

"I'll go shopping," said Duo, smiling slightly. He took the keys from his pocket and headed out. Without saying a word, Trowa stood up and followed.

Wufei disappeared into the kitchen, and Heero decided to use the time they had to find a good place to go after they rescued Quatre. Warsaw was mainly destroyed, but there were still a few places where they could go. A motel would probably work. They just needed to find one in the vicinity, or at least not very far away.

A cup of coffee was placed beside the laptop. Heero looked up and saw Wufei taking a seat in front of him, a coffee cup in his hand. "You look tired," Wufei said simply.

Wufei didn't look much better. Actually, all of them needed to get some rest, but they wouldn't be able to get any until Quatre was safe. They had gone a lot longer without sleep during the war, and Heero trusted his abilities and in those of his friends, no matter how tired they were. Heero took a sip of the coffee, savoring the slightly bitter taste.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Heero?" Wufei was looking him in the eyes, the cup of coffee forgotten on the table.

Heero placed his cup on the table too. "Do what?"

"The mission." Wufei's voice was sharp, but there was concern hidden there too. "You might have to break your vow."

After moving the laptop to the side so he could see Wufei better, Heero leaned back in his chair. "I'm aware of that." It wasn't the first time he had faced that question. When he had decided to protect Relena he had made a choice. He wouldn't kill but that wasn't going to stop him from taking care of those he loved.

After the Marimeia incident, Relena had been threatened twice. Both times Heero had drawn the weapon he had never stopped carrying and fired. He didn't aim to kill anymore, but he was aware that every shot could be fatal. As much as he cared for his promise not to ever kill again, he cared a lot more for his friends, his family. "Quatre is more important than my vow."

Wufei nodded. "Then let's go get him."

* * *

Abdul gripped the wheel firmly as the jeep jumped slightly. It landed with a thud, and Abdul immediately pressed the accelerator again.

"Want to slow down a bit before you kill us both?" asked Ahmad, gripping the handle above with his left hand and the one in front of him with his right.

Abdul just gave Ahmad a smirk and kept the same speed. The sky was already turning red, and he was determined to reach camp before nightfall.

"Rashid will not be happy if you wreck the jeep."

Pushing his glasses down to give Ahmad a look, Abdul increased the speed even more. "You say that like you don't trust me."

Ahmad sighed. "This isn't exactly a highway. It isn't even a road, so you need to be careful."

"Like this is the first time I've driven in the middle of the desert." Abdul chuckled. "You know what's happening? You're getting old."

Ahmad lifted his head in a dignifying manner, which only made Abdul take notice of the prominent mustache and the two day old beard. Abdul couldn't stop another laugh. Ahmad was just too easy to tease. The rest of the drive was fast and silent. Ahmad was apparently too preoccupied with looking old to complain more about the speed.

Rashid was waiting for them in the garage. He looked calm, but Abdul had no doubt that the man was still very worried about Master Quatre, as were all of them. The reports Abdul had managed to send were very limited, since they preferred not to say too much on the phone, even if the lines were secured. "I'm glad you are back safely," said Rashid, with a hint of a smile. "Shall we?" he turned to walk inside. Ahmad and Abdul followed.

When they were in the dining room, where food and drinks had been prepared for everyone, Rashid began to question them. "So they don't know Master Quatre's location yet?"

Abdul grinned. "Duo Maxwell called when we were on our way here. They have a lead. He didn't say much, but he said they were going to get him."

Rashid visibly relaxed. "We can trust them. They care for Master Quatre as much as we do." He drank a sip of wine. "I just hope they know to come to us if they need help."

"I think they are over that lone crusader thing," said Abdul. "Duo even asked us to distract the Preventers, so they could sneak into Master Quatre's house to look for clues."

Rashid raised an eyebrow. "I assume there were no problems."

Ahmad shook his head. "None at all."

"Like a silly group of Preventers is a challenge for two strong Maguanacs like us?" Abdul said, cheerfully. "Even if one is getting old," he added, giving a wink in Ahmad's direction.

Rashid gave Abdul a hard look. "I hope I don't fit your definition of old."

Abdul gave Rashid a sheepish smile, but before he could answer another voice interrupted him.

"Did I miss some good Ahmad teasing while you were away?" asked Auda, entering the room and sitting between Abdul and Ahmad.

"Nah, I behaved." Abdul waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.

Ahmed just glared at the two and continued eating his meal silently.

"Sure you did," said Auda. "So are we going to go get Master Quatre?"

"His friends are going for him." Rashid was looking at his wine glass. "We'll just have to trust them.

* * *

Sebastian was sitting on the small kitchen, having a cup of coffee while he watched Henry and Francis eat their meals. They had just switched shifts with Manuel and Patrick, who were now on watch. It was still early in the night, and Sebastian just had something to eat, but he was still tired. He hadn't anticipated that interrogating the pilot would be so wearing. The kid was proving hard to break, but that just ensured that once he joined them he would be a powerful ally.

Things could be progressing faster if it weren't for her order not to harm Winner too badly. Having to restrain himself was more difficult than Sebastian had thought. He had done that sort of work before on L2. He was one of the best, but he had never had to be so careful of a prisoner's health before. Usually, if they stayed alive and conscious once in a while, it would be enough, but she wanted the boy to pilot, and he wouldn't be able to do that with a broken arm.

If Winner hadn't drunk so much before they'd caught him Sebastian might be inclined to use drugs, but with the alcohol still in their captive's body it was a risk he wasn't prepared to take. The sedative they had given the pilot to transport him more easily had been risky enough.

With drugs being out of question and the amount of pain he could administer being limited, Sebastian could only do so much. He had been trying the psychological techniques she had suggested, but he wasn't sure they were working. She had said it could take time, but time was against them. The longer they took to break the boy the higher the chances of getting caught became.

"Hey, Culler, do you think we should give the kid some food?" Francis asked, his mouth full of tuna sandwich.

"When was the last time you fed him?" Henry asked Francis, placing his glass of juice on the table.

Francis put a hand under his chin while he chewed another bite of sandwich. "I gave him a glass of juice today before our shift. Just after lunch."

Henry was already done with his dinner. "No food?"

"An empty stomach will remind him that is better for him to cooperate," said Sebastian simply. "He's getting enough fluids. Food is not a necessity."

"Still," said Francis, looking at the half eaten sandwich in his hand, "he must be hungry."

Henry laughed, getting up to get a cup of coffee for himself. "I can't believe you feel sorry for the kid after he almost knocked your teeth out."

It had happened when Francis had unchained the pilot from the chair to take him to the bathroom. Midway there the boy had attacked Francis, managing to knock him out momentarily. He had nearly escaped. Sebastian had caught him when he was almost at the door.

That was one of the reasons Sebastian was feeling tired. The pilot had put up quite a fight for being weak, hurt, blindfolded and wearing handcuffs. Apparently he had tried to take off his blindfold, not realizing that the cloth had been secured with electric tape to his head, and when that didn't work he had walked blindly, trying to find the exit. It was fortunate that he had run into the table, knocking over some plates, or Sebastian might not have heard him.

Sebastian and Henry had managed to drag the boy back to the basement between them, and secure him to the chair. Then, Sebastian had asked Henry to leave and had worked an hour on the pilot. That escape attempt had been too close, and Sebastian wanted to prove that any resistance was futile and that the best option was to surrender.

He still had gotten nothing out of the kid. The boy spoke little and not a word he said was useful. Normally his words were challenges disguised under a polite tone. He was still being defiant and stubborn, and Sebastian knew he wasn't close to breaking him yet.

Francis nuzzled his bruised chin. "It's weird. The kid is stubborn as hell, and he did knock me out but..." he took a sip of juice and turned to face Henry. "He thanked me for the juice today. In fact, he thanks me every time I take him to the bathroom or get him something to drink, even if Culler has been working on him before." Francis shook his head. "It's just weird. He's not what I expected."

"He'll be a good ally once Culler breaks him," said Henry.

Sebastian nodded thoughtfully. The truth was that he found the pilot weird too. Every time Sebastian tried to expose him as a murderer and terrorist the boy remained quiet, or simply nodded and stated that he wasn't proud of what he had done. When he tried to teach him about their ideals and what they were fighting for, the boy just used patronizing words, showing that he didn't agree with Sebastian's ideas but that he wasn't going to challenge them either. The pilot dismissed him as one does to a small child, who has yet to understand the world of grown ups.

Those were the times Sebastian let his anger take control. For a few moments he ignored her words and her recommendations to break his spirit instead of his body, and just launched at the boy, showing him who was in charge. His captive would grunt and moan and sometimes even let out a scream, but he would never talk.

Sebastian needed the pilot to tell him the specifications of the Gundam known as Zero. She had said that he had been the one who built it and would be the only one able to do it again. And then, once they had the Gundam, they would make the boy join the fight, and all of them would create a new world in outer space, a better one. It was a beautiful dream, and all that stood between Sebastian and the dream was a rich brat.

The boy might have fought a war, and Sebastian respected him for that, but what did a rich kid from L4 really know about life, about the harshness that some had to bear? About the misery of those who weren't nearly as fortunate as him? Sebastian wanted to make him see, to open his eyes to the real world, the one that was lived outside mansions, but the boy refused to look.

A hand was waved in front of Sebastian's eyes. "Culler?" asked Henry. "Are you listening to us?"

Sebastian blinked a couple of times and then brought the cup of coffee to his lips. It was cold. "He will be broken," he said to Henry, not caring if anything else had been discussed while he was thinking.

"I was wondering if you needed any help," said Henry. "I know I've never handled an interrogation before, but I can help, and learn." Henry's eyes were sparkling, and he was leaning forward, waiting for Sebastian's answer. He seemed too eager to take on a dirty job like breaking someone's spirit.

Francis made a disgusted face and then looked at Henry. "Why would you want to do that? Are you some kind of sadist?"

Henry turned to Francis, but he kept looking at Sebastian every once in a while. "I'm not a sadist. Breaking the kid is very important for our fight. We can't advance until we gain his cooperation. And I'm willing to do anything to make sure that our plan is executed."

Looking down, Francis swallowed his last piece of sandwich. "I want our plan to work too," he said, still not raising his eyes. "I want my sister and everyone on L2 to have a better life, but," he grabbed his glass of juice and brought it to his lips but then put it back down without drinking. He shook his head. "Nothing. Do what you want."

Henry shrugged and turned to Sebastian. "So, what do you say?"

A loud noise filled the room, and the three men turned to the open door, where a figure was standing, holding two machine guns straight at them. "Just give me a reason to shoot," the figure said. "I assure you I won't miss."

* * *

TBC. 


	8. Chapter Eight

**Sandstorm **

**By Misanagi**

Rating: R/ M  
Pairings: Gen (maybe hints of 3+4)

Warnings: Angst, violence, language.Summary: Years after the war, the world is still wondering about the identities of the mysterious Gundam pilots. Now they have an answer.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the characters used in this fic.  
Archives: Gundanium Line

Thanks a lot to Anne for the beta.

* * *

Chapter Eight

The men outside had been ridiculously easy to out maneuver. Not that many people could out smart a Gundam pilot but Duo had expected a little more resistance. There were only two of them guarding the perimeter and Duo and Wufei had managed to knock them out easily without the use of any weapons. If these people had been organized enough to kidnap Quatre from a house filled with Preventer agents, Duo hoped that they would at least put up a good fight. Apparently he had overestimated them.

Heero and Trowa had already climbed to the windows on the side of the small building. Wufei was behind Duo, covering him. "There's three of them," Heero's voice sounded on the comm link.

"I'm moving in," Duo announced, and kicked the wooden door open. "Just give me a reason to shoot. I assure you I won't miss."

The men in the room were frozen for a moment. One of them started to move his hand to his side, but Trowa fired a warning shot. The men's eyes moved away from Duo to look up at the window where Trowa was aiming at them with a rifle. In the opposite window, Heero had a hand gun pointed at the men.

"I suggest you raise your hands," said Duo, walking slowly into the room. "We tend to get trigger happy when people kidnap our friends."

The two younger men paled, while the older one's eyes widened slightly. They all raised their arms. Apparently they were smart enough to know they were outnumbered.

Wufei entered the room and stood beside Duo. At the same time both Trowa and Heero jumped down from the windows, landing behind the men, surrounding them.

"Four of you," the older man said. "I knew this could happen but I never expected you to find us this fast."

"We are the best, and we don't like it when you mess with one of us." Duo's voice was cold and deadly. He still kept the machine guns trained on the men. He could probably relax now; the men weren't going anywhere, but Duo got a weird pleasure at seeing them cringe every time they looked his way.

Heero put his gun on his waistband and took out a set of cuffs from his pocket. Trowa kept his rifle pointed at the men, making sure they wouldn't try anything while Heero cuffed them.

Duo handed one of the machine guns to Wufei. "I'm gonna look for Q," he said, and walked towards one of the younger men. He pointed his weapon at the man's neck and asked, "Where is he?"

The man gulped. He shifted his eyes away from Duo to look at the older man. Duo moved away from the nervous young man and approached the older one, who was apparently the leader. "Where is he?" Duo repeated.

After looking at Duo in the eyes for a few seconds, the man lowered his gaze and answered, "In the basement."

Not sparing him a second glance, Duo walked right past the man, heading to the corridor. The first door Duo passed was opened and led to a room with two cots. Duo walked inside and did a quick search. There could be more men in the building, and if they were, Duo intended to find them. The room was empty.

The next one was an office of some sorts. The room had no windows and only a desk and two chairs. Duo walked inside and glanced at the old phone on the desk. The men had obviously been in contact with someone, probably the person really responsible for Quatre's kidnapping. The phone might help them figure out who this person was.

"This isn't the basement." Wufei stood at the door, machine gun in hand.

"I know." Duo walked out from behind the desk. "They've been in contact with someone. We should take the phone."

Wufei walked into the room. "Go find Winner," he said, "I'll take care of this."

"Heero and Trowa?" Duo wondered.

"They are securing the five prisoners outside."

Duo raised an eyebrow but walked out of the room. Securing, in Heero's and Trowa's vocabulary, meant getting answers out of the men in whatever way possible. They might not need the phone after all.

The next two rooms were bedrooms; the first with one cot and the other with two. Going by the bed count, there were only five men guarding Quatre. According to the Preventers' report Duo had read, there had definitely been more than five men involved in Quatre's kidnapping. Guns for hire, probably; paid for one job and not involved with whatever agenda was behind the kidnapping.

The last door in the hall was metallic, instead of wooden like the rest, and it was locked. It took Duo less than a minute to get it opened. It was pitch black inside. The light from the corridor illuminated only the first steps and Duo descended slowly, touching the walls and looking for a switch. He found it on the third step. There was a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling and below it, tied to a metallic chair and blindfolded, was Quatre Winner.

Duo ran down the stairs. Quatre's head was raised and tilted in the direction of Duo's steps. There were visible cuts and bruises in his face, his shirt was dirty and bloodied and he looked pale, too pale. "Oh God, Cat."

"Duo?" he asked, his voice sounding tired and raspy.

"Yeah, buddy," Duo said, putting a hand on Quatre's shoulder, in a reassuring gesture.

Quatre hissed softly and Duo moved his hand away immediately. There were a few drops of blood on the shirt. "Shit, man! What happened?"

"They wanted something I couldn't give them."

Duo clenched his fists and silently hoped that Heero and Trowa were using one of their less savory methods to make sure the men cooperated. He put the machine gun on the floor and crouched behind Quatre. The cuffs around Quatre's wrists were definitely too tight, and the skin was torn. "I'm taking these off," Duo warned, knowing that the friction might hurt Quatre.

When the cuffs were off, Quatre flexed his fingers slowly. Duo didn't miss the wince he made as the blood returned to his hands. "At least you can move them," Duo said.

"Yeah," Quatre agreed.

Duo swallowed a lump and started to work in removing the restrains on Quatre's feet. He wanted to get Quatre out of the room before any of the others saw him like this, especially Trowa. As soon as the restrains were off Quatre stretched his legs and then stood up. Duo managed to rise from his crouch on the floor just in time to prevent Quatre from falling. "Take it easy, Q," he said, and helped Quatre back to the seat.

Quatre let out a frustrated sigh but didn't try to stand up again. He moved his hands up to touch the blindfold and the electric tape covering his eyes and part of his forehead. "Get this off!"

Gently pushing Quatre's hands down, Duo said, "I will. Don't worry." Even though he had never been blindfolded, Oz's cells had always been dark and Duo remembered very clearly just how disconcerting it was to live in darkness for days. Using a pocket knife, he very carefully cut the electric tape. The kidnappers had tied a rag over Quatre's eyes and secured it with the tape, which thankfully protected most of Quatre's skin and hair but not all.

"Do it quickly," Quatre whispered.

Duo grabbed one corner of the tape and mumbled an apology before pulling it off in one quick movement.

"Fucking hell!" Quatre cursed under his breath before opening his eyes. He squinted, closed them and then opened them again, this time slower. He blinked for a few seconds and then looked at Duo. He sighed and a small smile graced his lips. "It's good to see you, Duo."

* * *

A soft hiss escaped Quatre's lips. He was biting his lower lip, obviously trying to keep the sounds to a minimum. Again, for what was probably the twelfth time, Trowa looked at Quatre up and down, making a mental list of the injuries Heero was currently treating. They were all flesh wounds, made to cause pain, not to incapacitate; torn lip, bruises over Quatre's face and chest and shallow cuts – obviously made deliberately with a knife – in both arms and shoulders. 

It made Trowa wish that the leader, a man who had identified himself as Sebastian Culler, hadn't answered their questions so easily. Trowa and Heero had roughed him and his men up a bit, but it was nothing compared to the state Quatre was in, and it was a lot less than what those men deserved.

They had kidnapped Quatre and tortured him for three days. Tortured him!

Trowa growled and diverted his eyes away from Quatre; it was already obvious how angry he was with had happened and he didn't want to make it even more evident. When Duo had helped Quatre out and Trowa had seen him for the first time, he couldn't stop the string of curses that slipped angrily out of his mouth. The others had given him weird looks but right then, Trowa didn't care. He was upset, and he wanted someone to pay for what had been done to Quatre. He had managed to land two punches on Culler's face before Heero and Wufei pulled him away.

It had been a good thing, since in that moment Trowa could have killed the man. He certainly wanted to. But it couldn't be. They had already broken enough laws without killing one of the suspects. Wufei had called Lady Une and informed her of the location of the men so she could arrest them. They had left them there, cuffed and locked in the same basement they had used to hold Quatre.

After that, they had driven to a motel a couple of hours away and checked into one of the suites. Duo had brought an instant soup which he had given to Quatre and he ate two bowls before Heero started treating his wounds.

Duo was talking, telling Quatre how they had found him and silly stories about the last couple of days. However, he kept away from mentioning the newscast, or the letter they had found in Quatre's hidden safe. They had all kept away from the important issues, of asking Quatre why he had cut them off, why he had acted they way he did. Trowa wanted to ask all those questions, he wanted to demand answers, but he remained quiet. He hadn't spoken much since they'd found Quatre, and he felt that the moment he opened his mouth he would say horrible things he would regret.

"… so I decided to bring the phone, maybe it can help." Duo pointed at the machine lying on the floor by one of the beds.

"It won't," Heero said, disinfecting the wounds on Quatre's arms. "It's an old model. It doesn't have a memory, not even a redial button. The numbers are never recorded."

"Fuck!" Duo said. "So we can't track her that way."

It hadn't taken long for one of the nervous men to admit that they were working for someone else: a woman. She had never given them their name. At first Trowa hadn't believed them but after a while, when Culler himself gave them the account numbers they used for the transactions with her, Trowa decided they were telling the truth.

"No," Heero confirmed. He put the last bandage on Quatre's arm and put the first aid kit away. "But I can hack into the bank's records and find out who's been transferring money into Culler's accounts." Heero got his laptop from one of the packs, sat on the floor against the wall and began to work.

A beep sounded and Wufei answered his cellphone. He talked quietly and Trowa turned his eyes away. If it was important, then Wufei would tell them when he hung up. Duo had stood up to get Quatre a glass of water and was now sitting next to Quatre on the couch.

Their suite wasn't too big. It was just one room with a very tiny kitchen. There was a large couch, two chairs, one double bed and one single. They hadn't discussed sleeping arrangements yet, but Trowa would make sure Quatre took the single bed. He was in no condition to share or to sleep on the couch or the floor.

"Une has the suspects in custody," announced Wufei, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

Heero raised his eyes from the computer screen, but he was still typing. "She didn't ask about us or Quatre?"

"I told her Quatre was safe." He paused a moment and then added, "I also informed her that we are not turning him in."

"Are you in trouble?" Quatre's voice was stronger now. He hadn't spoken much before either. He had thanked them all for rescuing him and answered a few questions about his condition but that was it. "I don't want you to get into trouble because of me."

"Stop it, Quatre." Trowa's voice was low and cold. "We are not discussing this now." He didn't have the patience to even listen to Quatre suggest that they turned him in. It was simply not happening. If he had to tie Quatre to a chair and shake some sense into him, he would, but there was no way he would let Quatre play martyr again.

Quatre held Trowa's gaze for a moment but in the end lowered his eyes. The room was filled with uncomfortable silence.

"You can still go back, Wufei," said Duo, breaking the silence. "It's not too late."

Wufei shook his head once. "My place is here," he said, simply.

For a few minutes, the only sound was the click of the keys as Heero typed. Wufei was standing, leaning on the wall with his eyes closed. Duo had stood up from the couch and walked to the window. Quatre was looking down at his hands, and Trowa was looking at Quatre.

Quatre sighed, raised his eyes and looked at each of them, finally resting his eyes on Trowa. "It's not polite to keep someone waiting." His voice was soft and resigned. "Just kick my ass already and be done with it."

Heero stopped typing. "Someone already did that for us."

A sigh escaped Quatre's lips and he lowered his head in acceptance.

"You haven't apologized." Duo turned away from the window and focused his attention to what was happening inside the room. "Instead of coming to us, you cut us off completely. That's a pretty shitty thing to do." Quatre opened his mouth to protest but Duo held out a hand and continued, "Don't say you were trying to protect us, Q. We never asked you to. We aren't innocents to protect, we're your comrades, your fellow pilots, your friends, hell, I'll even go as far as saying family!"

"I was taught to protect those I care about," Quatre said, very softly.

"We don't need protection. We are above that." Somehow, Wufei managed not to sound smug.

"Was this said to you by the same person who made you think that everything in the fucking universe is your responsibility?" Duo had done a great job at hiding his anger, but now it was coming out of him in waves. "You aren't almighty, Quatre. You can't control everything around you, as much as you want to, and not everything that happens is because of you." He walked closer to Quatre. "As the t-shirt says, shit happens, and when it does, we are here for you, if only you would remember that."

There was a sad look on Quatre's face. "I'm sorry," he said softly, then he raised his chin and repeated it loudly. "I'm sorry."

Duo grinned and sat again on the couch, next to Quatre. "I can't speak for these guys, but I forgive you, man."

"I accept your apology," Wufei said and bowed his head slightly in acceptance.

"You acted recklessly," said Heero, the laptop forgotten for a moment and his eyes on Quatre. "Some risks are acceptable, others are not. You need to learn the difference."

Quatre only nodded once. He looked disappointed. Then, he turned to Trowa and asked, "What about you?"

Trowa held Quatre's stare. "You say you are sorry and I believe you." But he also wondered if Quatre would do it again. Probably yes. He could forgive Quatre but he was still hurt and afraid that it would happen again.

Quatre accepted Trowa's words with a nod. Things weren't resolved, but for now they were on even ground.

"Do you think this chick has a big army at her disposal?" wondered Duo, changing the subject slightly. "She sure has means, if she's talking about rebuilding Zero, but I wonder how many people are behind her."

"I don't know." Quatre shrugged. "He, Culler, suggested that they wanted a new war, but didn't say much else."

"Their group of followers is limited," Wufei said. "They have enough resources to bribe a Preventer and buy mercenaries for a job, but apparently the only people committed to the cause who took part on the kidnapping were the five we captured."

Duo grinned slightly. "If we find the mystery woman then the situation might be contained." He looked at Heero. "How are you doing there?"

Heero didn't reply immediately. He kept his eyes on the screen and his fingers on the keys. After a moment he looked up, a frown on his face. "I found her."

"What's wrong?" Duo's grinned diapered. "Who is it?"

Heero shifted his eyes to Quatre. The expression softened a bit. "The account is registered to Mahtob Winner."

* * *

Lady Une watched as her agents took the men from the van and into the Preventers' holding cells. The five kidnappers had been found in the basement of an old building, tied up and most of them quite scared. Wufei had only said that the kidnappers were all alive and waiting for her to take them in to custody but he hadn't said anything about their condition. All the way to Warsaw Une had worried about in which state she would find the men, but apparently the pilots had exercised some restraint. The kidnappers had been roughened up a little but there were no broken bones and they were mostly unharmed. Wufei hadn't said much about Quatre's condition except that he was alive and injured but the small stains of dried blood in the basement's floor made her wonder. 

The kidnappers hadn't talked on the drive to Preventers' HQ. Une had deliberately remained silent. She would have to treat this situation with care. Many people would be angery that Quatre Winner hadn't been found and she wanted to keep her department away from any suspicion. While Preventers had become a highly respected organization, any of that could change if the politicians willed it so. Most civilians weren't aware of just how necessary the Preventers were to their way of life and to peace and Une was going to make sure that the organization would keep afloat, running as it was, no matter what.

"Excuse me, director?" An agent was standing by her. He was staring at the floor and looking clearly uncomfortable.

"What is it, Miller?"

Miller raised his eyes. "Ma'am, Senator Anillievich's secretary has been calling. He's very eager to know about the status of the investigation."

Une sighed. She disliked the man profoundly and after the day, actually the week, she'd had she wasn't looking forward to talking to him. "Thank you, Miller. Dismissed."

The agent scampered off and headed to her office. She needed to decide how she was going to approach this problem. She wasn't going to turn in the pilots or even breathe a word that she was aware at all of their involvement; they trusted her and she wasn't going to break that trust, not for a government who insisted on persecuting war heroes.

Stopping at her secretary's desk, Une told her to find Mark Johansen and tell him to meet her at the holding cells in five minutes, and the she turned around. The sooner she dealt with this the better and Mark had proved to be an intelligent and capable young man. Une wanted to have someone she trusted witness the interrogation and with Sally and Wufei away she decided to test Johansen. Her judgment was rarely wrong and she didn't think she would be disappointed now.

Mark didn't take long to join Une at the door of the holding cells. He saluted as soon as he saw her and waited for her instructions.

"I'm going to question Mister Winner's kidnapers, Johansen. I'm giving you the chance to be there and witness. Afterwards, you'll write a report to compliment mine and file on the case's archive. Is this clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied.

"Good. Then follow me."

They entered the holding cells area, the agents at the door snapping into attention the moment they saw Une. The kidnappers had been placed in five different single cells to keep them on the edge. They still seemed to be affected by their encounter with the pilots and Une was ready to take advantage of that. If their testimony was a little distorted and any accurate descriptions of the men that freed Quatre were lost then so be it.

She had watched them in the van, studied them. They didn't need to tell her who the leader was, it was obvious by his posture and the way he carried himself. He had looked calm but resigned and he wouldn't help her purpose now; she would question him later. Now she wanted to start with the one who had identified himself as Francis Broome, he looked no older than eighteen, young and frightened.

"Be quiet and observe," Une told Mark and opened the door to Francis' cell.

The boy was sitting on the cot, elbows on his knees and his head buried in his hands.

"Mr. Broome," Une said as she walked inside the cell. She gestured for Mark to close the door behind him and then stood in front of Francis.

The boy lifted his head and looked at Une warily. He bit his lower lip and Une could see that he was trying to keep from crying.

"It's quite a predicament that you are in. Kidnapping Quatre Winner, killing Preventer officers… I must say the future doesn't look very bright for you." She gave him a disapproving look.

"I didn't kill anyone," the boy stuttered. "I was the driver, I only drove. Culler said I didn't have to join in the fight. I stayed in the car. I didn't kill anyone."

Une resisted the urge to smile. She had picked a good first subject. "You were still part of the organization and that has consequences," she announced gravely. "That will be decided later on by a jury, but for now your cooperation could save you a lot of trouble."

"Cooperation?" There was a hopeful look in the boy's eyes.

"Yes, Mr. Broome. You talk to us. Tell us about your organization, its plans, about the kidnapping and your backers and we might be able you get a deal. If it's true and you didn't take part in the killing of twelve Preventer agents then there might still be hope for you to get a life after you've served your sentence. However, that depends entirely on your cooperation."

Francis's leg started twitching. "But I don't know anything about that woman. I told those men already."

"Then tell me about the rest," Une said. "And tell me about those men."

Twenty minutes later Une walked out of the room with a confession, the names of the involved and the description of the five men that rescued Quatre and captured the kidnappers. According to the testimony they were all more than six foot tall, their eyes screamed murder, they were rough and dangerous and it was easy to tell they had been soldiers. Francis hadn't specified an age and Une didn't ask. The pilots' features had been lost behind the fear in Francis' eyes and Une was gong to make sure that this was the description left of file.

"Follow me, Johansen," she said as they exited the holding cells. "I have one more job for you."

She headed again to her office, Mark quietly following her. He had held his tongue and followed orders perfectly. Une could see he was curious but he wouldn't question her. When they reached her office she asked him to close the door and then stand behind her desk. She wanted to have a witness for the call she needed to make. It was always safer that way, even if she recorded them too.

Sitting down, she buzzed her secretary and asked her to get Senator Anilievich on the line. When the call was connected she skipped the formalities and started giving her report.

"Senator, we have successfully apprehended the men responsible for Quatre Winner's kidnapping. After receiving an anonymous tip we located the men in a small abandoned building in Warsaw. I've personally questioned one of them and I can safely assure you that these are the men we were looking for. We have a confession and blood evidence that Quatre Winner was held in that building. However, by the time we got there Mr. Winner was no longer at the location. I'm afraid to say we don't know where he is."

* * *

TBC 


End file.
